


Bleeding Out

by KatAnni



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e17 99 Problems, Episode: s05e18 Point of No Return, F/M, Gen, Michael!Dean, No romance focus, Some kissing, a few hints, fix it for season 5, otherwise it's really adventure/story focused, season 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatAnni/pseuds/KatAnni
Summary: A story about how Dean says 'yes' to Michael but everything doesn't turn out quite as expected. AU after S05E17, '99 Problems', continues into Plot of S05E18 'Point of no Return' and then takes its own course. Features Brotherly fluff and Angst, Dean/Lisa, Dean & Michael (not romantic), Adam, Gabriel, Lucifer and many others. More inside :). Rated T for Violence, Blood and swears. No slash. No romance focus, mainly story driven.





	1. Bleeding Out

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to upload this here as well (it's from my FF.net account). But chill, it has 29 chapters and I'm editing them a little bit (shorter paragraphs mainly and some spelling errors) before reuploading. Some people seemed to like this when I uploaded it on ffnet so I hope the same goes here. It's a Season 5 fix it where the angels aren't just stronger demons. Please tell me if you did like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts out at the end of Episode 17 and still roughly follows the canon plot. Later chapters will differ more strongly until the AU completely diverges from canon.  
> Also it has 136k words in the end so be prepared for that. Although that does include the comments on ffnet I made. We'll see how much AO3 counts!  
> Hope you like it!

**Chapter 1**

_When the Day has come but I've lost my way around…_

 

His tired hands folded the piece of paper in thirds, opened the envelope and carefully placed the letter inside. Sealing it shut, he took the pen from the half-dirty motel room table and scribbled just one word on the outside:

_Sam._

His dim green eyes stared at the word for a short moment before he continued in his almost robotic movements and placed the envelope on top of the other objects he had collected from his belongings. Well, from what he still possessed anyway. It’s not like he had a room to collect metal trophies or books (or even his favorite weapons) on the walls. He hadn’t had a room in years. His father’s leather jacket and the cassettes from the impala, the keys to his baby, his favorite gun and finally, the letter to Sam, his only blood relative still alive were all he would leave behind to be found.

All of these were piled in a box he now labeled with Bobby Singer’s address. The guy had always been like a father to him and Dean Winchester knew that Sam would eventually turn up there to either look for him or mourn about the loss of his brother.

A deep sigh escaped his throat as he drew a hand across his face down to his chin that was dappled with stubble. His fingers lingered and after a short thought he shrugged. Why not shave before his body became the motorbike of an archangel? He saw the irony in that thought but it was all the more motivation to actually do it so he grabbed a blade and went for the bathroom.

Without having to use shaving cream, the hunter was thinking close to nothing while actually doing the shaving. The door to the bathroom was still open but he wasn’t in sight from the front door, which suddenly creaked open even though it had been firmly locked. The hunter lifted an eyebrow, blade lowering from his neck as he listened.

“I do not see him. Maybe he left already. Are you sure we’re searching in the right places?” He heard the deep voice of Castiel and had to stifle a deep sigh. Oh no, the two had followed him? How in hell did they know where he would go? The answer didn’t let him wait for long. He missed something Cas said before he heard Sam speak.

“It’s easy enough to figure out the points of a farewell tour, Cas. But he wouldn’t leave the car so- “, he saw his brother through one of the mirrors in the other room now. His eyes widening, he stepped aside, worrying they might have spotted him and that was why Sam interrupted his sentence. But with a careful glance he saw that it was something different entirely: Sam had spotted the package…

 

* * *

 

In Sam’s head, all the calm he may have had flew with the wind as soon as he saw the package on the table. His eyes widened, he got out a knife and cut through the wrapping without even thinking about it. What he saw made his face lose all color and he didn’t even notice Cas approaching behind him, looking over his shoulder.

“No…no, this isn’t happening!” he whispered almost inaudibly as his now shaking hands reached for the letter with his name written on it in Dean’s messy handwriting. He felt his breathing turn heavy as the key fell into his view as well, the key to the impala. Dean would never leave her, not if he ever intended to make it out of something alive. Ever. His throat felt dry at the thought of what that meant.  He still saw himself run after the car, heard himself scream his brother’s name and his voice telling him to relax when he left the motel room to ‘get clean bandages’. How could he tell him to relax if he was about to do…this?! And he had followed his brother’s steps as good as he could. Sam knew Dean. Whatever the guy wanted to think, he _did_ know him. He knew him damn well.

So, the hunter had grabbed the angel with the trench coat, dropped him into another car, got it running and drove after his big brother as fast as he possibly could. But he always missed him by just too much to get a hold on him and since Cas still couldn’t find him because of the rib thing, they were relying on Sam’s knowledge about Dean alone. His mind flashed with the memory of Lisa. They had found her new address and it had been the first time that Cas had been able to leave the car instead of half dozing in the back seat like a hung-over alcoholic (which spookily fit him pretty well at the moment).

After the bell rang he heard rustling and the door swung open far too quickly and widely. Lisa’s face looked like she might have cried but there was hope on her face when she opened that door. Then she saw Sam and immediately, her hopeful expression fell, replaced by a mixture of sorrow, worry and something else Sam couldn’t quite place.

“Sam…” she breathed and half leaned against the doorframe, locking her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. But the younger Winchester had seen enough. He sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his mind racing.

“He was here, wasn’t he?”, Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Cas sway slightly but the angel quickly caught himself again. Lisa didn’t look shocked by the question so Sam dared to ask more. “Is he still here? Please Lisa, I need to know.”

“No, he left immediately. Said he couldn’t stay, not even for a beer.” She looked lost for a moment, like she was playing it over in her mind and trying to put together a picture she couldn’t quite grasp. Then she looked back up, determined but vary, as if she wanted to ask a question she knew wouldn’t have an answer she would like. “Please tell me he’s going to be alright. He’s going to do something stupid again, isn’t he?”

Sam didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. How much had Dean told her? How much did she know about their job and what was going to go down really soon? He was pretty sure Dean wouldn’t tell her the end of the freaking world was coming. She would be much more shaken up. But even if he didn’t say anything, his expression seemed to be enough for Lisa. The young mother drew in a deep breath and nodded, looking down and Sam saw her lip quivering in silence. Suddenly, he couldn’t hold the questions in anymore.

“What did he say to you exactly? Did he say anything about where he wanted to go?”, the hunter asked and he felt Cas step beside him, his expression as serious as ever.

“We need to know. Dean is about to do the most cowardly mistake of his life and we need to stop him from doing it.”, he explained in his trademark deep voice, looking just like when he was reciting the bible or telling Dean he was going to find god and save them all. Sam didn’t say anything but shifted his gaze back to Lisa. To his surprise, she looked testy with her lips pressed together and her dark eyes pointed at Castiel with an almost furious gaze. When she opened her mouth again she stepped forward, one arm unfolding from her chest and pointing at the angel.

“Look, I don’t know who the hell you are but don’t you dare call Dean a coward. I may not know him as well as Sam does but from what I know Dean is one of the most courageous men I ever met. In his own, mostly stupid way I admit, but still.” She caught herself from saying more and blushed slightly. The young woman glared some more, Cas’ forehead was wrinkled and it was the closest expression to astonishment Sam had seen on the angel up until now.

He himself had to refrain from stifling a laugh. The way she reacted to something like this, he could really see why Dean took a liking in Lisa. She appeared gentle but she had a righteous mind and an attitude to match his brothers if she wanted to. Suddenly it seemed so very logical for Dean to end up on Lisa’s doorstep of all the women he had been with over the years. The brunette now turned to Sam, frowning but opening up a bit, her arms sinking down to her side.

“No, he didn’t say. Just said something about making arrangements for me and Ben and that the people he would meet wouldn’t get anything from him before agreeing to conditions. And he said something about things going to get hairy and that I should watch out for reports…” she paused as she felt her voice starting to break up a little. Taking a moment to catch herself she finally continued, looking Sam directly in the eye.

“Please tell me he’s not getting himself killed. He came here and talked about how he’d like to be happy with me and Ben and then he just leaves like that, it just seems awfully like…” _farewell_. It seems like a farewell, that’s what it was. But Lisa didn’t finish her sentence there but her eyes begged for Sam to contradict her. Instead, Castiel answered for him.

“I am sorry. But that is exactly what he’s doing. We are trying to track him because I can’t find him directly, the runes in his ribs hide him from my sight.” He explained rationally. Lisa frowned at him this time, not angry again but more puzzled. She looked him over, then back at Sam for a second, then back at Cas.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name, who are you?” she asked. Sam got the feeling she wanted to distract herself from the confirmation of her worries that indeed, Dean was about to get himself killed. Cas looked at Sam for confirmation that he could tell the truth and the Winchester just nodded. They didn’t have time to beat around the bush and go the gentle way. Lisa was tough, she could handle it. He hoped.

“My name is Castiel, I’m an angel of the Lord.” He paused at Lisa’s dumbfounded face and blinking dark eyes shimmered with red from the crying.

“Dean is about to give himself to the archangel Michael as a vessel and seeing that Michael is the strongest celestial being there is, this might not only kill him but millions of people in the process.” It was silent for a moment, only the quiet of the neighborhood weighting down on them. Sam wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, Lisa collapsing? That she accused them of lying? Certainly not what she actually did:  Blink, think and then respond with a counter.

“Then why would he do it? Dean would never risk that many people without reason, surely. Is there no other way or what? If you really are an angel, why didn’t you stop him from leaving in the first place?” she bombarded them with questions and her brown eyes were wide with something between curiosity and accusation. It was a strange combination, really. Castiel closed his eyes for a moment but Sam was the one to answer this time.

“He couldn’t, Dean snuck off…kinda. It’s the Apocalypse, Lisa. We think Dean wants to save at least some people before all hell breaks loose and _everybody_ dies. The arrangement he probably wants to make is for the angels to take you and Ben somewhere save, most likely together with some other friends of ours so whatever Michael does while riding him, you wouldn’t get hurt.” He paused, watching Lisa’s face light up with realization but then quickly fall again at the thought of what that all meant. The end of the world…sure, that was a hard pill to swallow for anybody. Sam sighed.

“But we are working on something that could save more people and we need Dean with us. We want to do it without the angels and without demons, just us.” He explained. Lisa nodded very slowly and then pointed her chin at Cas.

“But he’s an angel.” She said, lifting an eyebrow. Cas pressed his lips together.

“I rebelled.” Was his short answer to that. Sam gave her a half smile.

“All other angels are pretty much dicks. We try to avoid working with them…or for them.”, he said. Lisa seemed even more confused now (who wouldn’t, most people thought angels were fluff balls with white wings of happiness) but Sam could see she was trying to stay focused.

“So that plan, what is it? Stop the Apocalypse with two Winchesters and a rebel angel? How is that working?” she asked, no accusation, just curiosity in her voice. When Sam and Cas opened their mouths to answer, she suddenly lifted a hand to shut them up again.

“Wait, no. Maybe it’s just better I don’t know. You told me enough already. I…j-just promise me to find him and stop him, will you? Just get him back safe. Let me see him again maybe? I was hoping to…no, don’t mind. I’m being selfish. Just get him back safe.” She seemed to jump between options in her head. Sam felt a flush of something that might be jealousy or affection, he wasn’t sure. Lisa wanted Dean to stay with her…even though he was a hunter, even though she knew of his past, what he did for a living. Despite all that she trusted him, wanted him with her and her child.

Yeah, about the child…he had always asked himself why Dean was dodging questions about him and Lisa. Now he wondered…but no, that was absurd. There was just no way, right? He shook off the thought and smiled at Lisa, hesitantly lifting a hand to touch Lisa’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I promise I’ll do everything in my power. Cas too. We’ll find him before it’s too late. But for that we really have to leave. I may know where he’s going next but we need to hurry. Take care, Lisa. Don’t worry too much okay?”  he said and gave her something that he could call a smile if he really felt like doing it properly. Honestly, it was just a twitch of the mouth. Lisa tried too but Sam saw that she would worry, probably even more than she would let on. It would eat her up from the inside.

Suddenly, he thought of something. Reaching into his pocket he got out a pen and a small piece of paper, a bill from the gas station earlier. On it he scribbled a number and handed it to Lisa.

“Here. Dean’s number. Could you-“

“Sure.” She had already understood, took the pen from him and tore the paper apart, writing her own number on it and handing it to Sam.

“I’ll make sure he calls you. Goodbye.” The younger Winchester finally promised and Cas already turned around. Lisa smiled now, a little wider with maybe a glimpse of hope.

“Bye. And good luck.”, she said, slowly stepping away from the entrance and watching them drive off before slowly closing the door.

* * *

 

Back in the present Sam became desperate. No, that was a lie, he already was. Brushing his hands through his hair he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself and think. Dean left the car. Did he steal another one or was he still in town? Or worse, already with Michael? Was there a way to find that out? Would Cas know? Thoughts were running through his head and Cas seemed pretty much occupied by the things in the box, examining it for something. He was so in thoughts that he didn’t even notice the figure watching them through the mirror on the wall.

 

* * *

 

Dean himself was observing them and he did see his brother’s expression. But he couldn’t take his decision back, didn’t want to. Sam probably didn’t think it but the older Winchester did all of this for his little brother, after all. So he closed his green eyes and took a deep breath, turning away from the two men that were brothers to him. With the stealth of a ninja –he was sometimes quite proud of that- he climbed out the bathroom window and landed on his feet outside without a sound, he hoped. Cas had super hearing after all. Though he wasn’t sure how much mojo the guy had left since his rebellion against heaven. That thought stung at him a little.

For Cas, this must be pretty much worse case scenario. But he had planned on talking to Michael to take Cas back. After all, the angel had done it all for him, so maybe he could make it up to him somehow. But he shook the thought away and began to run. How should he contact Michael, anyway? The angels couldn’t exactly find him because of the rib thing. And if he just hurt his ribs Cas would find him too and that wouldn’t really help his cause.

So he needed somebody to talk to that had communicated with an angel or knew how to contact them because he doubted that shouting at the sky would actually address anybody at all. Unfortunately, Enochian wasn’t really his native language so he didn’t have a clue what to say to summon an archangel, even after that thing with Raphael. Damnit he should have just written that summoning down. Dean felt his feet drag him further into town since the motel was outside the city.

And there it was, his solution. A church. Yeah, brilliant idea! For the first time in his entire life he actually felt drawn to one of these buildings. How ironic. He would have laughed if he didn’t feel far too tired to do so.

With a deep breath the older Winchester walked up the steps and opened the door to the church. It was a small one, not even able to hold maybe a hundred people. Then again this town was microscopic so that wasn’t really surprising to him. What was surprising though was that there were actually people sitting inside. There were random places occupied and they were all quiet, hands folded down and apparently praying. For the first time in a long time Dean wondered what day and time it was. He hadn’t really paid attention to it in the last couple of weeks if he was being honest. Too much was going down and what would he care if it was Saturday or Monday if the freaking world was ending and they were driving right into the Apocalypse? So seeing these people he assumed that it was actually Sunday and he had been walking right into a mass. The older Winchester didn’t bother checking his watch to see if he was right. What did it matter?

The priest was at the head by the altar but he hadn’t been praying. Maybe Dean was early. Some of the folks had been looking up when he walked in, followed him with their gazes, a frown on their faces.

Granted, he didn’t look much like a church goer with worn out clothes and tired looking face, rings under his green eyes. But the hunter walked all the way to the altar anyway, until he stood down right in front of the priest. The man looked at him, bewildered. Dean didn’t bother to ask if he was the priest, it was obvious after all. He decided to get right down to business. His voice wasn’t even lowered when he spoke. Why hide? There was nothing left to hide after all. If this went down right here they might as well know.

“Are you capable of contacting the angels?” he asked. Somehow, that felt stupid. All that contact with monsters hadn’t made questions like this any easier. To his surprise and relieve, the priest didn’t react with a ‘what do you mean’ or ‘I am a priest, I pray but angels? No, never spoken to them’ but simply with lowered gaze and a

“Why do you ask, son?” Dean almost had to smile. He couldn’t believe his luck. He refused to believe in fate still. His green eyes pierced that of the priest.

“My name is Dean Winchester. I hope you know what…” he trailed off at the gasp that went through the priest’s lungs. He was aged and gray haired, stubbles on his cheeks and his figure was slim. But he walked forward and nodded, lifting a hand as if contemplating to touch him. He actually looked teary eyed.

“Dear father in heaven.” He whispered and Dean tilted his head slightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He commented with slight amusement in his voice. The priest nodded slightly and fathomed a smile.

“It was wise of you to come to me, son.”, he said and then turned around to the altar, raising his voice. He heard people behind him starting to whisper in hushed tones, wondering what the hell was going on. For a short moment he contemplated what it would feel like, being used as an angel condom. Then he remembered Jimmy telling him that being used by Castiel felt like being chained to a comet and he tried to dismiss the thought. Because Michael was an archangel and if being possessed by Cas felt like a comet, what would Michael feel like, a star? A whole solar system? A galaxy? That picture in his mind really wasn’t necessary right now.

The priest prayed in a loud tone of words that sounded odd to his ears, old English, a bit of Latin thrown in then and there. He had turned away towards the entrance, waiting for Zachariah or some other asshole to show up. But when he turned around at the sound of wings finally appearing, it wasn’t Zachariah.

It was Cas.

The angel touched the priest by the head with two fingers, like he had once done with Bobby at their first meeting and the man crumbled to the floor, fast asleep. He heard panic arise behind him as people realized something was seriously off. A man in a trench coat appearing out of nowhere and knocking out their priest was probably too much for them. As if the strange-talking man wasn’t bad enough. Some fled immediately, others just sat there, obviously far too curious or scared to move a toe. The ‘man in the trench coat’ turned around and Dean was aware of his little brother standing directly behind Cas, staring at him.

“A church, Dean? Seriously?” he asked and the accusation behind it was deeper than it appeared on the mere surface. Admittedly, it was quite ironic. Sam had always been the one to pray in their little family. He had been the faithful one. And yet here was Dean, becoming a servant of heaven on top of all things. His lips formed a half smile and he cocked an eyebrow.

“What? Where else would I find an angel-radio listener? You should hurry with your getting-me-to-sleep-and-dragging-me-to-Bobby’s. You know, I’m pretty sure Zachariah heard that too. And you know how he is with the whole ‘abomination’ thing, Sam.” He said mockingly and took a few steps back as he saw Cas move towards him. Even if the words were cruel, he wanted Sam to get out of here before the other angels came.

In general, he wanted Sam to not see him when Michael touched down. And he had hoped that Sam wouldn’t have to see him as Michael at all, just to spare him the pain. He knew it was hopeless, of course. If the angel in the trenchcoat had wanted to, Dean would be long asleep by now. Still, it didn’t hurt to try, right? So he decided to buy some time. The look on Sam’s face was breaking his heart thought and it made him stop in his tracks. It seemed to scream nothing but ‘why’ and so Dean was fully prepared for what came out of his brother’s mouth next.

“Why, Dean? Why are you giving up? Team free will? Saving as many as we can? This isn’t what you want.” He said, stepping forward a bit. Dean just smiled, this time more honest.

“Oh yes it is.” And it was. He knew that now. Of course there were doubts but when were there not? He felt his own face relax and the frown on Sam’s face deepen. The hunter saw the redness in his eyes and the desperation. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to reassure his brother that it was going to be fine. But then he would lie and Sam wouldn’t be helped in any way. Still, he wanted to explain.

He was interrupted in his actions when a fist connected with his cheekbone. It was so sudden and unexpected –and so freaking strong- he didn’t even react until he hit the ground. Bewildered, he grabbed his thrumming cheek and looked up to see that Cas had been the one to hit him, his fist of steel still raised for another punch.

“Cas, what-“

“I REBELLED FOR THIS? SO YOU COULD JUST _GIVE UP_?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. And that was pretty fucking loud. The echo in the building was enormous, too. Some more screaming echoed from behind him, he heard the door open and shut several times while people fled from the scene in panic. He wondered if any of them would call the cops. Another punch. And another. Dean didn’t want to punch back, not really. Didn’t even defend himself besides trying to roll out of the way. But Cas was too fast. Of course, he was still an angel, the dude.

“I GAVE EVERYTHING, _EVERYTHING_ AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!” he saw Sam and how he tried to hold Cas back from punching him to a pulp. Blood triggered down Dean’s face, he could feel it but he really didn’t care much. Still, explaining himself was pretty high on his list.

“Cas, listen to me. I did _not_ just give up. There’s a reason-“

But suddenly, another pair of wings rustled behind him.

“Dean Winchester. You called.” An unknown voice sounded. He turned around, still on his knees, bloody and exhausted and there was an angel in a black suit, brown hair and brown eyes. He didn’t seem like anything really special but Dean didn’t care. He breathed out a sigh of relief and tried to stand up.

“Yes. There’s something-“

And then there was nothing.

 

* * *

 

 _When the Day has come but I've lost my way around_  
_And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground_  
When the sky turns gray   
And everything is screaming   
I will reach inside   
Just to find my heart is beating 

_~ Bleeding Out, Imagine Dragons_


	2. Search and Destroy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter today, I'll try to upload them once a day since I'm still reading them again to fix some obvious mistakes. There are probably some left, feel free to point them out to me so this story is left in this archive in its best state!  
> Also this chapter has a bit of repetition from Episode 17 but after this it goes off in its own direction, promise.

**Chapter 2**

_Sold my soul to heaven and to hell_

_Sick as my secrets, but never gonna tell_

 

When Cas arrived with Adam, Sam didn’t know how to react. Dean was still unconscious on one of the beds when the angel flew into the house and dropped the other Winchester on the bed next to Dean’s. Adam didn’t even look that bad. He was muddy and bruised but seemed fine otherwise. No torn out internal organs or missing legs or anything of that matter. _Just like when Dean got outta hell_ , Sam thought bitterly.

The hunter sighed and dropped the cloth he had used to clean Dean’s wounds. They looked like nothing more than small cuts on his face now, slightly red but not bleeding any more. He stood, glancing over at the younger man, explaining that this was their brother Adam and as a reaction Cas seemed shocked but worried too. Another Winchester…that seemed to be an unexpected turn of events. And apparently a bad one for their side, too.

The Angel’s first action was to put a hand on Adam’s chest and Sam knew what would follow. The sigils. Immediately, Adam was awoken by the pain. He looked around, confused. Then his gaze fell on Sam, the one standing beside his bed and having the tallest body was probably the first one you focused on.

“W-what? Where am I? And where the hell is Zachariah?” oh. That was bad. If Zachariah had his hands in this, they were surely dealing with some high class manipulation. What was Adam told? That he was the new Dean? New Party ride in town? That he could save the world by saying yes? Honestly, it wasn’t that much of a surprise when that theory actually proved to be true.

They tried to persuade Adam into believing them but in the end, Cas had to put him back to sleep. He had protested and insisted on his right to leave and of course they couldn’t just let him. It was night by now and the angel volunteered to watch over the two sleeping idiots. Sam looked around the room, mainly at his two brothers though as he stood in the doorframe.

“And then there were two of them.” He heard Bobby mumble beside him, slumped in his wheelchair and glaring at the two Winchesters in bed. Sam laughed slightly.

“Yeah, now the angels have two idiots wanting to run to them and scream for Michael to hop their asses. Sweet.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Cas, slumbered in a chair, looked up. It was so unlike him to actually sit down but he seemed exhausted and it was worrying Sam to see him like this. He was falling and it wasn’t good for him at all.

“They seem to be moving on from Dean. Thinking he was strong enough to withstand them. Now they take Adam as a second option, not perfect but good enough.” There was bitterness in his voice that would have earned him a wince or a snarky commentary from Dean if the older Winchester was awake.

Instead, Sam winced himself and sighed heavily. He frowned and looked over at his brother, lying there on the bed, his face strangely painful. Why was he looking so concerned? If he was honest, Sam hadn’t seen him sleeping well since he came back from Hell. The older Winchester was plagued by nightmares of his days there, the 40 years of torture and of himself torturing other souls.

Sam had worried about him every time he had heard him awake in screams and he had pretended to not notice the many times Dean just didn’t sleep at all or went outside to sit in the Impala and listen to some quiet music to get his mind off his dreadful dreams.

The last weeks, Sam wasn’t better off though. Lucifer was appearing in his dreams more often, trying to persuade him and now Dean suddenly decides to give himself to Michael, after all of them fought so hard for their free will, to resist the two angels from getting into their bodies so they could fight out their differences? Dean’s inner strength and conviction in him were pretty much the only things that kept him going these days. The only things that kept him chained to his humanity and sure of himself and the fact that he would stay strong enough through the whole Apocalypse.

If Dean was giving in, then what?

“Sam. Come on, we should both get some rest, it’s the middle of the night already.” Bobby tore him out of his thoughts and waved for him to follow his wheelchair outside. He did, of course. Dean and Adam were asleep for now and the younger Winchester needed his mind off of things. Cas was sunk in the spare chair and looked tired, which struck the younger Winchester as odd. He had never seen an angel tired before. This wasn’t a good sign. But he tried to shrug it off and put himself to bed before he could fall over out of dizziness.

 

* * *

 

Morning came and the sunlight hit his face as if its light could raise his hopes and dreams from the ashes at Lucifer’s feet. Sam had dreamed about him again, Lucifer. Actually it quite surprised him that he held out until morning and didn’t awake screaming like most of the time. Maybe it was because Lucifer had actually tried the nice-guy this time.

Not that it was any more appealing, it was so much creepier than anything else. He had told him that his brother knew what was coming, that Dean knew he would give in in Detroit. That Sam should just ask him about it. And a fat grin had sat on his face at that comment, as if he was a hundred percent sure about it. Sam had to force down a feeling of dread.

What if he was right? Did Dean know something? Didn’t he believe that he could do it anymore? That he could hold out against Satan? Had he given up hope not because of the state of the world but because of him? Even after that speech about how they kept each other human?

Sitting up, he pushed away that thought and sighed deeply. His hands rubbed his still tired eyes and he pressed his palms against his leg afterwards to help himself stand. Bare feet brushed the carpet as he made his way for the bathroom and splashed some water into his face. He was just beginning to wake up properly when suddenly something from the other room drew his attention.

“No! Damn it!” was that…Cas? He had never heard the angel yell nor curse like this the whole time he knew him. With dread building in his stomach, he quickly dried his face, immediately completely awake and ran down the corridor. _Please let Dean still be there, please let Dean still be there, please let Dean…_

But Dean was still there, sleeping as if nothing had ever disturbed him. On the other hand, Adam’s bed was empty, the covers tossed aside without care and Cas was standing up before it, his hands in his hair and his expression almost panicked.

“What happened? Where is he? I thought you were watching them?” Sam asked and he heard Bobby wheel up his chair behind him. Obviously the older hunter had been awake for some time already but been over in the kitchen or living room, researching. Cas nodded, his face full of confusion.

“I-I was but…I don’t know I guess I…fell asleep? How is that possible…” he honestly looked puzzled about it. Bobby rubbed his eyes. He didn’t seem to have gotten enough sleep himself.

“Well that’s only natural, what’s so fishy about it? So the boy used the time you were knocked out to escape, we just have to find him again.” He said and Sam had to smile at how simple that sounded. Despite that it wasn’t. He frowned at the man who had been like a father to him for so long.

“Angels don’t sleep, Bobby. Has somebody knocked you out or something? Adam himself maybe?” he asked and felt stupid shortly after. Cas looked at him as if he lost his mind.

“Knocked me out? Adam? No. I just fell asleep. Didn’t see anybody. Now he’s probably with Zachariah already.” Sam nodded in agreement at that and Bobby too, he seemed to have realized the mistake in his thinking from earlier.

“So…we go looking for him or what?” Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow. Sam nodded.

“We probably should. I’ll wake Dean-“

“No.” Cas interrupted him. He had lifted a hand to keep Sam from getting any closer to his brother.

“Cas, we’re up against more than just Zachariah, we need everybody we got. We can’t just leave Dean here!” he said and tried not to mention that he didn’t want to leave his brother alone at all after what he’s seen of him in the last days. Hopeless, reckless, empty almost. He couldn’t stand the thought of what he was about to do when they had found that box that was now still in the trunk of the impala. He hadn’t opened the letter yet. Didn’t want to, dreaded what might be written inside. But he didn’t want to leave Dean, couldn’t risk him to be alone again. Then Cas dropped an argument that made him hesitate.

“It’s a trap, Sam. A trap to get Dean into the preparation room. Or as Dean called it, beautiful room.”

“Beautiful room?” Bobby asked and Cas glanced over to him.

“It’s a room in another dimension between Heaven and Earth. Once they have him there they can do to him whatever they want until they get him to say yes. They have full control over that room, more than on most things on earth and they won’t let him go until they have what they want from him. Not that they need much convincing for that.” There was bitterness in his voice and resentment in the gaze he now tossed the sleeping Dean who lay on the bed in an almost awkward position, just like they had dropped him yesterday night. Sam glared at Cas now. He balled his fists and ignored Cas’ hand, dropping on the bed next to his brother.

“I don’t care what you think, he won’t just say yes. They are using Adam as bait, more than anything that would rather convince him he shouldn’t do it. Right? Right?!” he looked at Bobby and then at Cas, who were both looking at him with eyes he didn’t want to see: Ones that didn’t believe, ones that pitied him for his naiveté. But it wasn’t naïve. He wanted to believe that Dean wouldn’t do it, he really did. But deep inside, he knew that he was lying to himself. It wasn’t quite clear to him when and why but Dean had given up on team free will some time ago. Just like he had tossed his necklace in that bin back at the motel. The thought of it still made Sam’s heart ache. That had always been a symbol of their brotherly bond. What if that meant that Dean had given up on that too? He really couldn’t stand that thought at all.

Cas had come forward and guided Sam away from the bed now, telling him to better go prepare while he chained Dean to the bed with two handcuffs at each hand (so he couldn’t lockpick with the other hand. He was a genius at that after all).

Before they left, Sam had one last glance into the room. It was a miracle Dean was still asleep with all this commotion going on around him. Ever since hell Dean’s sleep had gone from really deep to extremely light. Sometimes he woke up from a barking dog or a bump in the road when a few years ago you could have invaded the motel and he would have snored right through it. Right now he looked rather peaceful though and Sam had to force himself not to release him from the handcuffs that were tying both his arms to the bed on both his sides.

Maybe it was better this way. Bobby had even suggested putting him into the panic room downstairs but Sam wouldn’t have it. Cas had put up angel sigils around the house just in case, he said that it would ward the house against at least the lower angels working for Zachariah but not the Seraph himself or any Archangel. Dean was still hidden due to the sigils so unless he somehow walked out and talked to somebody to contact the angels, he would be trapped here. And Bobby was still with him, after all he and his wheelchair wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon.

Closing his eyes to shut out the picture of Dean sleeping like that, Sam finally turned and walked outside the house where Cas was waiting since he couldn’t go into the building himself anymore, the sigils he put on it prevented him from doing so. Sam waved Bobby goodbye.

“Watch over Dean. We can’t let him do what he currently wants. You can talk to him, maybe you can reach him…” there was still hope in his tone and Bobby just nodded, not taking it away when Cas finally gripped his shoulder and teleported both of them.

He felt his feet touch the ground and looked around. Apparently they had landed right next to a storage building that looked like nothing really special, a bit similar to the one they encountered Gabriel in a while back. For a moment Sam wondered what the Archangel was up to now but quickly dismissed the thought.

“Where are we, exactly?” he asked the angel beside him, who had stopped in front of the entrance and gotten out a cutter form his pockets, like the one they used for cutting carpets.

“Watertown, South Dacota.”, he said plainly.

“Well that wasn’t far. And the room is in there?” Sam asked.

“Yes.” Was Cas’ response while he slowly took his tie off for whatever reason. Sam lifted an eyebrow. It seemed rather unlikely that anything in there could be called beautiful at all.

“Can’t you just…grab Adam and teleport out of there?” he asked further. Sometimes it was going on your nerves how you had to drag every piece of information out of the angel if you wanted to know something.

“No, there are at least five angels in there. They are faster than me.” He explained and Sam nodded slowly.

“Alright…we have the blades you brought from the graveyard, I can try and help you take them on.” The younger Winchester offered but knew that this plan wouldn’t work. These were angels. He was nowhere close to their speed, not even to Cas’. The angel in the trenchcoat shook his head.

“I’m going to take them on alone.” He clarified and now began opening his shirt. Sam’s frown deepened, then he looked at the knife again.

“Cas…what the hell are you doing? Wait, isn’t that suicide? Five angels?” he asked in a tone that suggested that Cas should seriously slow down with the pace. The angel stopped in his motions and looked him straight in the eye. The blue orbs shimmered desperately.

“Maybe it is. But then I don’t have to see Dean fail. I don’t want to watch him turn into something he isn’t and then die from the consequences because he _again_ wrongly assumes it’s the right thing to do to sacrifice himself for somebody else’s sake or whatever it is he’s thinking.” He explained in his deep trademark voice. Then he took the cutter in his hand with his chest bare and sighed. Sam wanted to protest, ask him what that was supposed to mean, what he was about to do but the knife already stuck and slid through his skin, leaving a trail of blood behind…

 

* * *

 

Adam sat down at the table and smiled at the collection of Hamburgers and beer. The angels sure knew how to please his stomach, huh? So he grabbed a wrapped burger and began to eat. After all, when Michael hopped his bones he probably wouldn’t be able to eat any more. And who wanted to save the world on an empty stomach? When he was on the second burger, he heard the sound of rustling and a blink later, there was Zachariah leaning against the table, looking at him with a half-smile.

“I see you and your brother share the same refined palate.”, he noted. Was that sarcasm? Adam couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He put down the burger and burped, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. The angel still had this smile on his face as he tilted his head. Adam noticed the awkward silence and coughed.

“So, uh…” he paused and looked around as if looking for somebody or something that indicated they would start soon. “…we ready?” Zachariah seemed surprised, his smile slipped a little.

“For what?”

“What do you mean, ‘For what?’” his smile was unsure, not certain why the angel played dumb. Could angels do that?

“For Michael.” He clarified, his expression saying that it was obvious what he meant. After all that was what he was told to do, what his destiny was supposed to be, right? So what was Zachariah just sitting there? No other angels, no pompous archangel or holy glow or whatever you would suspect to see in this kind of situation. Zachariah frowned now.

“Ohh, right. About that.” He spread his hands and frowned.

“This is never easy…but I’m afraid we’ve had to terminate…your position at this time.” Adam’s face fell immediately.

“Excuse me?” what if Sam had been right? What if the angels were liars and this wasn’t what they said it was? His green eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together for a moment.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’ve been a hell of a sport, really. Good stuff.” He made an ‘o’ with his fingers and winked at him in a cheesy way. Adam’s eyes narrowed further and he breathed in deeply, not sure if he wanted to scream or grunt in frustration.

“But the thing is you’re not so much the ‘chosen one’ as you are a clammy scrap of bait.” Zachariah finished. Adam’s fists balled. Oh, so that was it. They wanted Dean after all. And now he was supposed to lure him here? _Well, that won’t work_ , Adam thought with satisfaction in his mind. After all he had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Winchesters, they would never actually come for him after what he said back there….right? But he didn’t want to give up yet, so he ignored the insult and asked on.

“What about the stuff that you said? I’m supposed to fight the devil.” He insisted.

“Mh. Not so much.” Zachariah countered, looking at him with something that was almost pity, or annoyance, Adam couldn’t quite tell. “Hey, if it’s any consolation, you happen to be the illegitimate half-brother of the guy we do care about. That’s not bad, is it?” Adam stared at him, his gaze cold now. Damn it, he should have listened to Sam. His thought wandered to Dean, knocked out on the bed beside his own. He wondered what the big deal about him was, he appeared like any other human, why did the angels want him so bad? What made him special? But he didn’t ask that out loud.

“So you lied. About everything.” He concluded, bitterness dripping from his voice now. After all, Sam was his half-brother. He should have known. After the monsters and now the angels, he should have guessed that he could trust this half-family of leftover Winchesters, even if there wasn’t much left of it. There had been the guy in the wheelchair named Bobby and that other guy in a trench coat who seemed to know an awful lot about angels himself. Maybe he even was one, who knew. But all of that didn’t matter right now. His lips were pressed together tightly and he looked anywhere but at Zachariah, couldn’t believe he had actually fallen for this.

“We didn’t lie. We just avoided certain truths to manipulate you.” _Oh, nice. Because that’s so much better._

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” He whispered under his breath. It was his favorite insult and this time it really fit. He started to hate this guy with every word that came out of his fat mouth.

“Hey, how do you think I feel?” _I hope not good-_ “I’m the one that’s gotta put up with that dumb, slack-jawed look on your face.” Adam’s stare into nothing turned to the angel and was as cold as he could manage.

“Kid, we didn’t have a choice. The Winchesters got _one_ blind spot. And it’s family.” He paused and raised his hands again while Adam looked away as if that would prevent the situation from being as shitty as it was. “See, Sam and Dean, they’re gonna put aside their differences and they’re gonna come get you. And that’s gonna put Dean right here. Right where I need him.” He tapped the table with his chubby hands and for a moment Adam wished he had a knife so he could just cut them off. Or really anything else to hurt the guy who lied to him and deceived him and now wanted to use him as bait for his half-brothers, who actually were nice guys despite what he had thought. Damn it all…Zachariah didn’t seem to notice his fury and stood up, whirling around as if this was actually good news. Arrogant bastard.

“This is the night, kid. Our night. Michael’s seen it.” _Yeah well I don’t care about that bastard either-_ “The tumblers finally clicking into place and it’s all because of you.” Oh great. Now it was his fault. Why couldn’t he just stay in heaven? It had been nice there! “And me. But who’s keeping score?” _could you just shut up you crazy bastard? I’m trying to figure a way out of this…not that there could possibly be one…I’m probably royally screwed, am I?_

“Yeah, I’m not gonna let you do this.” He finally decided, standing up. Maybe he could just walk out of this. There was a door over there after all. They couldn’t keep him by force, could they? They were angels and even if they were dicks, they wouldn’t harm him…right? But Zachariah stood in his way now, trying to calm him.

“Cool your jets, Corky. Sit down, we’re doing it together.” _Yeah, right…_ but he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? So he slowly sat down again, glaring at the angel some more. “Plus, you still get your severance. You still get to see your mom, okay?” oh, that was nice of him. His inner voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm by now. He gave an ironic laugh in his mind, his pissed face looking back at the angel.

“Why should I believe you?” he asked, narrowed eyes and clenched fists. Zachariah stared some more, Adam wasn’t sure if he was searching for answers or doing something entirely different.

“You know what? I keep hearing this…” he opened his hand and closed it again like they did in kindergarten when indicated that one spoke. “But what I wanna be hearing is this:” he pointed his closed hand at Adam and suddenly, a burning pain rose from his stomach, worse than he had ever felt before and it came up his throat until he noticed that there was red liquid dripping onto the table, blood. His own blood. What did this bastard do, how could he do that? Was that even possible? He didn’t see Zachariah smile but he heard it in his voice when he spoke again.

“Yeah. That’s better.” He said and Adam had to keep himself awake so he wouldn’t pass out. God damn it…it hurt…

 

* * *

 

Slowly, Dean groaned and opened his eyes. The position he was lying in was rather uncomfortable and he tried to shift to the side or onto his stomach, like he preferred to sleep sometimes. To his dismay, he couldn’t turn, the clattering of metal and a sting on his wrist told him about the presence of handcuffs. The hunter moved both his hands, both times he heard the metal rustling and he sighed deeply. Goddamn, they had seriously cuffed him to a bed. His green eyes darted around and found that he was in Bobby’s house, one of the bedrooms down the hall. Again, he tried to shake his hands free but failed. A sound of frustration escaped his lips and he tried to at least sit up. No success again.

“Damn it. Sammy, come on! It’s not like I’m going to call the angels _here_! Get me out of these!” He yelled, hoping that his brother could hear him.

“Sam and Cas went after Adam. I guess they figured I wouldn’t be enough to stop you from leaving.” Bobby’s voice sounded from the entrance and Dean turned his head. He sat in his wheelchair and stared over at him. The older Winchester frowned at the man who had been like a father to him for quite some time now.

“What? Adam? Adam Milligan? But he’s dead. What…what the hell is going on? What do you mean went after him, where is he?” he asked and lifted his head so he could see Bobby. It was an awkward position and not very comfortable to maintain if he was honest. Bobby shrugged.

“Cas said the angels revived him and that he had the same bloodline as you do so he can also host Michael. Adam fled tonight when Cas dozed off and now Sam and Cas want to get him back from something they called a Greenroom?” Bobby explained. With every word, Dean’s green eyes widened more. He struggled with the handcuffs.

“Bobby, you have to get me out of here! Those two are walking right into a trap! God damn it, these things are pissing me off.” He pulled again and looked over to Bobby, who just shook his head.

“You think they don’t know that? That’s exactly why they left you here.” He said but it only made Dean more furious.

“What?! Are you kidding me?! The angels will expect me to be there and if I’m not coming, Zachariah will be seriously pissed off! Hell, he’ll probably kill them! Cas rebelled, he’s nothing to them now and Sam is Lucifer’s vessel, if he’s out of the way things would be much easier for them! I have to be there, Bobby. If I’m there they’re going to let them live to convince me to go to their side.” He argued, again pulling on his chains. Man, they had to take the good handcuffs, didn’t they? Bobby’s gaze was sad now and he again shook his head. Then he turned his wheelchair around.

“Sam and Cas can handle themselves. They will bring Adam back and then we’ll work on a plan that isn’t a sure ride to death for one of us. And more than half of earth’s population.” And he wheeled away, leaving Dean right where he was and far more frustrated. For a short moment there was silence, then Dean kicked out, again trying to pull free.

“Damn it, Bobby! This is the freaking Apocalypse, we will _all_ die! If I don’t say yes, Sam sooner or later has to and if that happens, we’re _all_ done for, you hear me?!  All of us! Lucifer rides Sam to the prom, Cas becomes human, I’m pretty sure you die, Chuck doesn’t have any toilet paper and I get bitter and resentful thank you very much.” He yelled but he was pretty sure Bobby couldn’t hear him and if he could, he didn’t turn around to talk to him or listen to a word he said. Sighing, he threw himself back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

Fucking great. Now what? Was he supposed to wait here until somebody told him the angels wasted his two brothers and the only friendly angel he knew? Well, Happy Birthday Mr. Winchester, that really didn’t work out the way you wanted, huh?

Suddenly, the silence was disturbed by a clicking sound that entered both his ears at the same time. A quiet click that he knew anywhere. It was the opening sound of handcuffs. Completely bewildered, he lifted his hands and sure enough, the things slipped off. Now very wary he rubbed his wrists and glance around.

“Hello? Who’s there? Show yourself!” he demanded. But nobody showed, it was just him and the dark bedroom with the light floating in through the closed curtains. For a few seconds his schooled eyes darted around and tried to find the source of the mojo that had just loosened his chains. Nobody was here. Still very suspicious, Dean got up and left the room soundlessly, never turning his back to the opposite wall, in case somebody seriously sneaked out and tackled him. Again, nothing. He went down the hall, made sure Bobby was in the living room and then stalked out the back door.

Dean didn’t see the person stepping out of the shadows and he also didn’t hear the knowing chuckle that went over that person’s lips. Had the hunter heard that, he would have had his weapon out in less than a heartbeat. Still smiling, the unknown person fingered something in their hands that gave away a weak crackle before shaking their head and disappearing from sight completely.

~~

His baby stood far away from the house by the garage and he was happy about that. Not that Bobby could run after him. He could have slapped himself for that thought but he thought that maybe he could arrange something with Michael about that. The angel should be able to heal it, wasn’t he like the strongest celestial being or something? He was glad that Sam had brought the car here after he had left it by that motel, he wondered if Sam had read the letter he had left. But no, he couldn’t have. Then he wouldn’t be out there without him right now and leave him to rot on that bed. But it didn’t matter, since however he did it, he was out now and he would make sure everything went just as he planned…

So with a mischievous smile on his face he started the motor which roared just like he remembered and raced off the junkyard. He heard yelling behind him but ignored Bobby’s screams. He had to get to Sam and Cas before it was too late…

 

* * *

 

Cas had told him to wait for him outside. Seriously, what was the angel thinking? He had carved that sigil into himself and didn’t even know what that entailed. He could die in there goddamn it. Sam had tried to talk him out if it but of course he wouldn’t listen. Sometimes Sam thought that Cas was more human than he wanted to admit. And more like Dean than he probably wanted to as well. The thought of his brother made Sam sigh a little. He really hoped Dean would stay where he was supposed to just this once. Of course, he was chained to the bed and Bobby was there but you never knew, his big brother was an expert in getting out of situations just as much as getting into them.

A bright flash of light interrupted his thoughts. It streamed through the gaps at the side of the door and in the metal of the building and Sam had to avert his eyes. After it dimmed down he dared to open the door and peer inside. There was nobody there. He gripped the angelsword in his hand a little tighter and walked inside. No Cas. He was probably beamed away from the sigil as well. But where? Back to Heaven? That couldn’t be good. Was he dead? The younger Winchester tried to repress the thought. He walked through the building, carefully glancing around for more angels. It was completely empty despite a small structure that looked like maybe someday there had been an employer or janitor in it. He rounded it and spotted a door. Carefully and with a deep breath, he threw it open.

The inside looked completely different. Somehow Victorian with white walls and paintings and beautiful furniture. What had Cas said? Dean had called it the ‘beautiful room’. Yeah, figured, it really was rather pretty. With the sword still in hand, he entered and immediately spotted Adam.

“Adam!” he breathed and hurried over to him, dropping the sword to his side to help him up.

“You really came.” Adam exclaimed, obviously astonished. There was blood on this lips and down his cheek, as if he was too weak to whip it away. Sam’s eyes flew around, not spotting anybody. He turned, Adam’s arm over his shoulders when suddenly, something slammed him into the wall. He stayed there, unable to move. On top of that his cellphone was ringing now, an annoying noise. Picking up was not an option though since he was still pinned to the wall with arms and legs and everything, staring down and seeing Zachariah standing before him, his face obviously displeased.

“Sam. So nice to see you.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Now where the hell is your big brother? Don’t tell me you didn’t bring him to the party!” he said, an obvious warning in his voice that Sam shouldn’t even dare to do that. But the younger Winchester just smiled and closed his eyes as Zachariah was pressing on his ribcage quite hardly with his angelic powers. He opened them again and managed to get enough air to answer.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you then. He’s far, far away, chained to a bed and I’m pretty sure he won’t be going anywhere in due time. Sorry. No Dean Winchester for your boss.” He said and tried to keep the teasing out of his voice but the satisfaction was just too good. Zachariah had counted on Dean being here, Cas had been right. It was a trap to get him to say yes. _Not that they would have much of a struggle anyway_ , Sam thought bitterly. Zachariah’s face twisted in fury now. His hand flew up and Sam felt the blood rise from his stomach, felt the pain and groaned, tried to keep from screaming.

“You insolent brat. What do you think is your part in this? You really think you can stop me? You think I can’t just keep you both? That it would be that easy to just walk out of here with Castiel sending away my guards. It’s not that easy, dumbass. I’ll just keep you both. Make you suffer some more and keep you just before death. Or kill you and get you back again and again. At one point, Dean will come to get his little Sammy. He always does, right? So I’ll just wait here. Maybe give him a call and tell him what the situation is. I bet that would help.” And his hand twisted some more and this time the scream escaped. Adam’s too. Both of them sank to the floor now, blood on their lips and agony in their faces. None of them heard the door and the angel was too occupied to make up new pain levels. They were all startled by the voice coming from the door.

“Well…I would stop that. At least if I’m informed correctly and these things do kill you.” Sam opened his eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. _No….he can’t be here. How the hell did he get here?_ An angel-blade was pointed at Zachariah’s back, obviously the one Cas had previously given to Sam and he had dropped it to the floor when being thrown back by Zachariah. Slowly but surely, a smile spread across the angel’s face and finally, he let Sam go. The younger Winchester fell to the floor and coughed up some more blood before gazing up to his brother.

“Dean…don’t.” he said. Or at least tried to. He saw Dean, his face grim with anger and how he glanced over at Sam with worry in his eyes. Nothing was different about that. He wasn’t throwing himself at the angel or anything, he didn’t seem different. Sam thought that was what made it even more difficult to take in.

“That was actually faster than I thought. Didn’t Sam just say you were chained to a bed?” Zachariah asked with a smirk, not bothering about the angel sword on his back at all, just standing there, turning his head a little so he could see Dean properly.

“I was. Got out. Now I’m here, it’s none of your business.” He said pointedly and pressed the blade a little farther. Now the angel began to get a little tense.

“Careful with that, tiger.” He said and suddenly vanished, reappearing behind Dean and knocking the blade from his hand. Sam yelled his brother’s name but before any of them could react, Dean was against a wall himself, shoved against it with Zachariah’s arm, hard. So hard that Sam could see the cracks appearing behind him and heard how all the air left Dean’s lungs.

“Dean Winchester. Finally, right where I need you. So, what do I do next, I don’t suppose you want to give in now, without the whole torture thing?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, as if he didn’t even consider another possibility. Dean, pressed against the angel’s arm, grinned as much as he could.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I came here for.” He said with a certain tone of victory in his voice. If not for anything else, Sam had to smile for the expression that appeared on Zachariah’s face now: Utter disbelieve.

“Come again?” he asked, completely bewildered. He loosened the grip on Dean a little, which allowed him to speak better.

“I actually came here to say yes. Been meaning to for two days now. You bastards are never around when I need you to be. Got held back.” He said with another grin, shoving Zachariah away from him now, who didn’t even resist. He just stared at Dean, blinking – which was rather surprising in itself seeing as angels never seemed to blink at all.

“But first. Before you call Michael down or anything, I need to talk to Sam. Five minutes.” He said but Zachariah didn’t seem to listen.

“That’s what you called for yesterday. In that church…” he whispered. Dean just nodded as a response but otherwise didn’t mind him. He walked over to Sam and offered him a hand.

He didn’t take it. Didn’t want to. Sam just turned away and stared at the wall. That seemed to stop Dean in his thinking and acting and he stared at his little brother.

“Sammy? Are you al-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you _dare_ ask me that, Dean.” He said between his teeth, blood still on his lips, not bothering to whip it away. “You’re about to give up everything we worked for, throwing yourself in to become an angel condom? Really? Roasting half the planet is what we do now? The new game plan? Fantastic, just…brilliant.” He glittered his teeth but the hand Dean had still held out just balled to a fist. He expected quiet withdrawal when really, Dean began to shout.

“By god, Sam! Would you just stop the whining bitch attitude? I’m doing this for you!” he demanded and immediately, Sam’s eyes widened and he looked up to his brother, staring. _What did he just say?_

“ _What_?!” he demanded, disbelieve and almost disgust on his face. “Like I would want that! In a million years I would never want you to do this!” he yelled himself now. He saw Adam getting up on shaky legs, supported by a chair and sinking down in it, staring at the opposite wall. Sam was getting up himself, leaning against the wall and Dean hadn’t moved one inch.

“No. That’s not it. Don’t you see what’s going on? We’re freaking losing this. There is just no way that we’re going to kill Lucifer. The colt doesn’t work and we had to sacrifice two good friends to find that out. How many more, Sam? How many? And why? Just because I’m too stubborn? Sam, Lucifer is visiting you in your dreams. Isn’t he? You’re not telling me and that’s fine. But it’s driving you crazy. You’re rarely sleeping, eating less, moody all the time. One day something’s going to happen. To me or to you or to Bobby or I don’t freaking know. But if you give in, game over. Believe me, I don’t want to even think about it but it’s one of the possibilities. And I don’t want to see you like that, not again.” He said, looking at his brother with so much sorrow in his eyes that Sam couldn’t even respond. And Dean wasn’t finished yet.

“If Michael gets me, he’s going to win this thing without Croatoan roasting the planet and without all of them dying.  Without giving Lucifer a chance to get to you at all. There are going to be some deaths but they’re not all going to hell. They’re coming into their own little paradise. And I’m gonna make a list. Zachariah, you got that. Those are conditions. I’m making a list of people that must remain unharmed if Michael wants to jump my bones. Got that?” he had turned to the angel, who had nodded, a smile on his face.

“Sure fine, make a list. No problem.” He said, gesturing to him in a ‘go on’ motion. Dean nodded. _Sam, Bobby, Cas, Lisa, Ben, Missouri, Adam too now ….,_ he thought and Zachariah’s smile grew wider. The angel turned around and began chanting. Soon, a rumble filled the room. Sam couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Dean no. Don’t. You have given up on me, fine. You don’t believe I can do it? Then how do you think I will if an archangel hops you? You’re going to die from this, Dean. You’re not doing this for me, it’s more like you’re doing it for yourself. So you don’t have to watch it. Please, don’t. I’m begging you here.” He said, stepping forward. He gripped his brother’s arm and stared, just stared in his eyes and tried to pour everything out in that gaze, everything he wanted his brother to know, to see. Dean’s gaze seemed to soften, slowly but surely and it became wondrous, then suddenly smug. Did he just wink at him? Dean turned around now, half grinning even while the room had begun to rumble while Zachariah was chanting.

_“Zod I rei do no ko abeira ma gei na sod hei sa dei”_

 “Zachariah? There’s one more thing.” Dean interrupted, leaning down for something on the ground. And Sam could see exactly what it was while Zachariah didn’t pay much attention.

“What? He’s coming now.” the angel said, a broad grin still on his face. Nothing could possibly waver his victory now. He had finally gotten Dean Winchester to say yes.  

“Before Michael gets one piece of this sweet ass, he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal.” He said, walking up straight to the grinning angel. His grin fell right off his ugly face, became mocking as if he couldn’t believe he was serious.

“What? You can’t be serious. You really believe Michael’s gonna fall for that?”

“Oh I’m dead serious. ‘Cause who’s more important to him now? Me or you?” the smug smile on his face grew wider than before, challenging even. Zachariah was furious and it looked like any moment, he could lash out and stab Dean directly in the face…

 

* * *

 

_Sold my soul to heaven and to hell_

_Sick as my secrets, but never gonna tell,_

_I’m to blame, burden of my dreams,_

_A curse of faith and a blessing I believe,_

_I believe, I believe,_

_oh I believe,_

_I believe_

_~ Search and Destroy, 30 Seconds to Mars_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a little comment in case you liked it :)


	3. Nothing left to say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on the Road again in this chapter! The Mystery begins.

**Chapter 3**

_Below, my soul, I feel and engine.  
Collapsing as it sees the pain._

 

Was he crazy? No, was he completely nuts?! Dean just went up to Zachariah and told him he wanted him dead, most possibly killed by his own boss. What was he up to, what in hell was he planning? His big brother was slammed against the wall by the angel now (second time today, mind you), trying to get free but still smiling this winning grin as if he owned the whole world. Then Zachariah finally snapped. He snarled and cursed –probably in Enochian and grabbed Dean’s collar tight, drawing him closer to him but away from the wall.

“You listen to me. You are nothing but a maggot inside a worm’s ass. Do you know who I am? After I deliver you to Michael?”

“Expandable.” Dean countered, no fear in his eyes at all. He was going for it, believed he had nothing more to lose. Somehow, that was even scarier to Sam than his desperation just a minute before. But still, Zachariah just laughed. The rumbling was getting louder now.

“Michael’s not gonna kill _me_.” He said, completely sure of his words. The older Winchester still smiled, just as sure and it drove Zachariah back a step, frowning.

“Maybe not.” He paused dramatically, turning the object in his hand around.

“But _I_ am.”

And he slammed the angel’s blade from the floor right into Zachariah’s jaw.

Light emitted from the eyes and the mouth of the dying angel just as it did from the created wound, flooding the room with a blinding white and Sam had to avert his eyes, assuming his brothers would do the same. When he could see again, Dean had stepped back, glanced down at the angel before him, lying on the floor with his limbs sprawled out to all sides and on the carpet of the beautiful room, spreading all the way to the wall and up were the prints of black wings, strangely beautiful against the white paint.

Zachariah lay completely still and Dean was holding the blade, drenched in angel blood. He looked strange, standing there while light seemed to flood from the ceiling from above now, illuminating his stern face, the rumbling getting stronger and Dean seemed to be the only one able to still stand from the three of them. He looked up, his gaze strangely neutral while a loud, deafening noise sounded from the ceiling. Sam and Adam covered their ears but Dean just stared at the light as if it didn’t faze him, as if he was listening...

No…no, he couldn’t!

“Dean! We need to get out. You can’t do this, come on! Please.” He screamed over the noise. Dean looked over as if awakening from something and nodded, rushing over to Adam.

“Can you stand? Come on.” Adam nodded and let his Half-brother help him up. Then Dean rushed over to Sam and put his arm over his own shoulder, making the way to walk out. They reached the door, Adam first and he reached out for the door knop.

The door was locked.

“Oh, Shit.” Dean whispered. He let Sam take Adam, who felt like his stomach was still exploding and Dean tried to pull or push the door open, tried to kick it in but just fell down and when he got back up, the light was unbearable already and the noise felt like it would soon explode their ears. Dean stood up and looked at the ceiling again.

“Shit shit shit…open this door, you son of a bitch!” he cursed, again trying to open the door. Again, the light intensified and in the same moment that they had to look somewhere else, squint their eyes, Dean pushed open the door and stumbled outside.

They pushed after him and all found themselves on the floor, groaning and mourning but still kicking and not at all torched by an archangel. Sam looked down at himself and then over to Dean. He saw that the light was gone and the open door didn’t lead to a beautiful room any more. Just the cupboard they had walked into. The hall around them seemed abandoned now, no angels, no nothing. Dean stood up slowly and helped his two brothers stand up themselves.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” he asked and just at those words, Sam felt like he wanted to hug his brother. He was still himself! No Michael there, no Zachariah anymore either and they even got Adam out. There had to be some luck left for him in this world. As soon as Adam stood, Sam smiled and hugged his big brother, gripping his shirt hard and closing his eyes.

“We did it. You’re still yourself!” he exclaimed and Dean laughed a dry laugh, letting him go now. He told Adam where the car was and together they made their way out of the hall. Dean asked where Cas was and Sam had to explain to him what had happened, what Cas had done. Immediately, Dean stopped in his tracks, his expression sad, almost angry.

“That little bastard. Let’s just pray he somehow made it out…” he said and Sam just nodded, dropping himself on the passenger seat while Adam sat in the back.

“So…where’re you taking me? I can’t just go home can I?” he asked, eyebrow lifted. Dean started the car and Sam took it he had to answer their half-brother.

“No, you can’t. Michael or one of the angels might want to get to you, we’ll get you back to Bobby’s, it’s safe there.” He explained. Adam didn’t say anything. He just nodded and then looked out the window, watching the landscape passing by while they left what had once been the beautiful room far, far behind them.

 

* * *

 

Adam stayed with Bobby for now. He had reluctantly accepted that it was pretty much the only option but as soon as the phase of self-loathing and stubbornness was over, he consented to help Bobby with the household, research work and even the cars. Everything was back to where it was before despite the fact that they were all worrying about Cas and where he went or if he was even alive. And then there was still this Apocalypse thing…

“Here. Lisa wanted you to call her.” Sam tossed Dean his phone the morning after their near-Michael experience. Dean caught it and frowned.

“Lisa? Wait- “, he narrowed his gaze. “You talked to her?” Sam nodded at that.

“Cas and I followed your trail and she said you were visiting her. She seemed pretty churning, worried. What were you thinking, even telling her anything about this?” the younger Winchester didn’t sound accusing, just curious. Dean stared at the phone in his hands, not daring to look at his younger brother.

“I…just wanted to see her again. Maybe even Ben…it’s just that…I thought…-Oh forget it!” He huffed and threw the phone on the driver’s seat of the Impala through the open door, then turned around to go to the trunk and stuff his duffle into it. They had gotten a hint for a hunt a couple of hours away and were preparing to leave soon. Sam lifted an eyebrow but smiled. He suspected what Dean had wanted to say. That he always thought that maybe one day, Lisa and him could stay together, that when this was all over, he could maybe go to her, to Ben and just…live. But the younger Winchester also knew that Dean thought that was impossible. And that he had wanted to just see her again, to picture it or to ensure that at least she could survive this. Sam hadn’t forgotten that time they had taken the dream-root and Lisa had turned up in Dean’s dreams, dressed in a white dress, waiting for him to join her for a picnic…

“You really should call her. I bet she’s worried sick.” Sam said, interrupting Dean in his packing and the uncomfortable silence he had thrown over them. Dean just stopped in his movements for a second, then continued as if nothing happened. He walked over to the front of the car, smiling a fake smile.

“Come on, Sammy, really? She doesn’t care about me that much. I’m just the guy who turned up and rescued her child once, she’s not worried sick about _me_.” And with those words he dropped himself into the car and started the motor, leaving Sam little time to jump in himself before he just drove off. They had said goodbye to Adam and Bobby already, the two of them were in the living room, Bobby had decided to teach Adam a thing or two about Mythology and monsters, since they now couldn’t really keep Adam from being dragged in. He already was. So it wouldn’t hurt him to know his stuff when another situation actually did occur.

Right now inside the Impala, Sam wanted to protest, wanted to tell his brother that he was mistaken, that Lisa did care for him. The younger Winchester had been able to see it in her eyes, heard it in the way she talked about him, how she had to stop herself from saying more and blushed and how she had practically pleaded him to get Dean out of this alive. Well, he had. Now would be the time for him to call her and tell her he was okay.  But of course he wouldn’t. Not when Sam was watching, he wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Sam stared over to Dean while he drove and had to frown. Something was off about his face…it took him a while to notice but soon, Sam lifted an eyebrow.

“Dean…where are the cuts you just had yesterday? The ones from Cas’ beating?” sure, they had been very small but still there. Now they just…vanished. As if there had never been anything there. Dean frowned.

“What do you mean, they’re still- Oh wow. Weird.” He had looked into the rearview mirror and blinked in surprise. His fingers stroked over the spots where the wounds had been but finally, he just shrugged.

“Don’t know. I always healed pretty fast though. Maybe I just had a very good night’s rest. I did sleep like a stone somehow. Eight hours is more than I got in a while.” He said and smiled at his brother, who was still frowning but didn’t say anything else. After a while of going through possible explanations, the hunter just shrugged it off and got out John Winchester’s notebook, flipping through the pages while the road flew by the window.

 

* * *

 

They stopped at a motel when the sun was long set and Dean was just paying the room like always, when something strange happened. He heard whispering, like somebody was standing behind him and talking very quietly into his ear. He had had it on the road too but dismissed it as part of the loud music that he maybe hadn’t heard before because he hadn’t turned it up quite that loud. But this time there was no music and the creepy whispering was considerably louder. The older Winchester whirled around quickly, startling the woman on the counter.

“Oh boy, don’t scare me like that. You alright, honey?” she asked. She was already old but seemed kind and Dean had seen the rooms, they were old but nice too, taken care of over the years. He shook his head, turned back around to face her. He saw in the mirror behind her that he looked white as a sheet. Were there ghosts here? He had to check out the EMF when he was back in the room. He quickly told the woman he was just fine and returned to Sam.

“Dude, where’s the EMF meter?”, Dean asked as he searched through his duffel. Sam pointed on the table next to him, where it was placed next to his laptop.

“Why? You think we have a ghost in this motel?”, he asked with a serious tone. To normal people this sentence would have been sarcasm but to Sam and Dean Winchester that was a completely serious question. Dean shook his head.

“I don’t know, I thought I heard something, like trees in the wind-“ he paused, because there were the voices again. Whirling around, he ran for the EMF meter and pointed it in the direction for the voices. He glanced at his brother.

“There. Did you hear that? Exactly like that.” He pointed around to where the voices where shortly before they retrenched again. His head began to hurt and he sat down, suddenly exhausted, and rubbed his head. Sam frowned at him.

“I didn’t hear anything.” He listened to the noise of the EMF meter. “EMF is quiet too. Dean, are you alright?” Sam leaned forward to look into his brother’s face. Dean stared at the table and at the paperwork his little brother had spread over it. It all swam around for a moment, getting all blurry before there were voices again, this time clearer. A kind of noise was in the background, blending out everything else around him. He held his head in pain as the words seemed to strike his mind like a stick. white light was suddenly blinding him and the voice flooded into him like a dam had broken..

_“General?”_

_“My prince? Where are you?”_

_“My Lord, your assistance is required. Meet me at the garden , if you please.”_

_“General?!”_

_“General are you there?”_

_“Hello, General?”_

_“General!”_

“- get some rest.” He heard Sam finish his sentence. The rest of it had been drowned in the many voices. His head was swimming, his vision still blurred, when suddenly, everything went clear. Crystal clear in fact. Every little mark in the table was visible, every normally not visible scar on his skin…The hunter looked up and saw his brother’s face full of concern.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, blinking. The voices were gone now, as if somebody had turned off a switch. Maybe he had done it himself out of annoyance, he wasn’t quite sure right now. Who the hell would be called general? He knew no general and he was also pretty sure that no ghost would call for somebody like that. Oh no, was he going psychic? That couldn’t be good. But…how? He certainly didn’t drink any demon blood as far as he knew. Sam broke him out of his thoughts.

“I said maybe you should get some rest. You seem to have quiet the headache...” His younger brother suggested. Dean only listened to him with half an ear. There was something going on here and he didn’t know what. And it was driving him crazy. But despite the fact that he had driven them across the country all day, the hunter didn’t feel tired. Like, at all. So he just shook his head, standing up.

“No, I’m fine, Sam. I’ll just take a walk to clear my head. You do the research on the job. What was it, a vampire nest?” Sam nodded at him but his forehead was still in a frown. Dean left the room, grabbing his leather jacket –that was thankfully back with him- and slammed the door shut behind him.

Out in the fresh air, he breathed in deeply, lifting his hand. He could see every little line, details he had never noticed before. And when his gaze lifted, he could see clearly. It was night. How could he see this well? This wasn’t normal. Was he turning vampire? But they hadn’t met any Vampires lately. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“I need a drink. Yup, definitely a drink.” He mumbled and with these words he left the motel on foot, in search for a bar of any kind.

 

* * *

 

Finally dropping into a chair at a nearby bar, Dean sighed deeply. His eye-sight alone had crept him out on the way here but now his hearing had started to act up, too. He could hear the two people in the corner on the other side of the bar whispering things nobody should probably hear about and he could hear the cars rushing about outside the closed doors as if he was standing next to the road. Deep breaths were taken and he tried to calm himself. He was _not_ turning vampire, the hunter tried to reassure himself. He hadn’t met any. It wasn’t possible. Sam would know if some fucking vampire had bled into his mouth, right? So what the hell?

As if he didn’t have enough problems already. The freaking Apocalypse was going on, his brother was supposed to be Satan’s prom ride, his father figure was stuck to a fucking wheelchair, his half-brother had returned from the dead and immediately walked into an angel trap. Of course, he was fine now but that didn’t guarantee anything as far as his experience went. Oh and then there was Cas…the bastard wasn’t answering his damn phone. Or any prayers, for that matter. And he had tried that far too often for him to admit out loud to anybody he knew. Sam had told him what had happened of course, with the sigil and all. Maybe Dean just didn’t want to believe it.

He couldn’t just be…dead.

Right?

And now this strange thing was happening. Sam would just freak out if he told him about all this. He would probably think the angels messed with him or Lucifer did and the older Winchester didn’t want to upset his little brother any further. He knew the guy already had too much on his mind to add a brother to the list who heard strange voices and had vampire senses or whatever.

If Cas would be here right now he should be able to tell him what the hell was going on with him, right? After all, the angel always knew stuff like that. Even if last time he saw him the guy tried to personally punch him back to hell. Not that he didn’t deserve it…

“Can I get you something?” a voice jolted him out of his thoughts. The bartender stood there, all beardy and chewing gum, rubbing dirt off a glass he had apparently planned to clean. Dean was used to bars like this, dirty and filthy for most parts, so it didn’t really bother him.

“I don’t care what, but something strong.”, he said, holding his head against the freaking headache that was going on. On his way here it had begun to come in some kind of waves, washing over him and resulting in a kind of buzzing in his ears and swimming of his vision before both returned to such clarity that it seemed almost unnatural. His sight hadn’t been this good before, had it? No, he was pretty sure that he had never been able to make out every pixel on a television at the other side of the room. The world seemed so…clear.

“Here ya go. This’ll do wonders against that headache of yours.” The barkeeper gave him a black-toothed grin and dropped two glasses of clear liquid in front of him. Something about his grin was off-putting but Dean ignored it. He just needed some alcohol right now. So he drowned the two drinks with a single swing for each and grimaced in preparation for the strong taste that would burn down his throat. But…nothing happened. He didn’t feel a thing from it at all.

Dumbfounded, the older Winchester stared down at the now empty glass and felt his throat with his rough fingers. Had that bastard handed him water? Strange…or was he already that used to the taste? Okay that was just sad. Another sigh escaped his lips and he looked up to the bartender again.

“Another one.” He said, his voice slightly annoyed. To his puzzlement the bartender just stared at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Dean frowned.

“What? Didn’t you hear me? Another one.” The guy just shook his head.

“Dude, there was like…half a bottle of roofies in there. How are you still awake?” he asked. Immediately, Dean’s eyes narrowed. His hand flew to his gun and he glared at the bartender while standing up from his seat very slowly.

“And _why_ were you drugging my drink?” he asked, his tone very calm and collected. His trained fingers found the gun in his jeans plus his finger around the trigger and he waited for the answer, already flexing the muscles he might need to point and shoot. But the bartender just smiled.

“Oh, that gun won’t help you. But to answer your question…” his smile grew wider and with a small shock, Dean saw how fangs –sorry, a second pair of teeth- grew out of his mouth, in comparison to the black human teeth, these were white and cared for, probably tested out on every poor human who stayed here too long.

“We’re quite hungry.”, the Vampire said, tilting his head in this strange way that Lilith once had the first time they actually met her. It unwillingly sent a little shiver down Dean’s spine.

And as he watched, all around him more fangs were drawn. Next to him there had been a man that looked around thirty. He was grabbing for Dean’s leather jacket now and the hunter acted out of reflex and shot him right between the eyes. Of course, it had no effect. The man just hissed and the bullet made him fly back but he was up on his feet again in no time. All around him there was laughing and the bartender chuckled now.

“A hunter. We actually managed to get ourselves a hunter. How…refreshing.” the man said, his voice had suddenly changed to a somehow Victorian tone, making him sound way different from what he was appearing as. Watching all the fangs bared around him, Dean got out the demon knife from his jacket and stepped back. If he couldn’t have a proper knife or dead man’s blood, this would have to do. A grin formed on his face. He was surrounded by vampires, a whole bunch of them. Maybe fifteen, twenty even?

“Well, Sam, you can skip the research this time. I think I found our nest…” he mumbled before the first monster flung itself at him.

 

* * *

 

 _Below, my soul, I feel and engine_  
Collapsing as it sees the pain  
If I could only shut it out  
I've come, too far, to see the end now  
Even if my way is wrong  
But I keep pushing on and on and on 

_and on_

_~ Nothing left to say, Imagine Dragons_


	4. In my Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's the hunt for the Vamps. Pretty strange stuff happens here..y'all can probably guess what's happening but the brothers are confused I guess. I will upload a chapter a day as far as I can manage and I add the dates of the original upload. I'm really glad I always add the upload dates to ff.net cause it doesn't show up there as soon as the next chapter comes...bless AO3 tbh.

**Chapter 4**

_Set the silence free  
To wash away the worst of me_

Sam’s phone rang. The annoying, high pitched ringtone suddenly filled up the whole motel room. Glancing over to it, the hunter pondered if it would be important enough to get up. He had just sat himself down in a comfortable position on the bed, his laptop on his legs and the browser open to do the research on the vampire nest. His phone was all the way back at the table where he left it and finally, he decided that it was probably better to pick up in case it was somebody important or Dean got himself into something.

He did seem weird when he left, as if he had a headache, asking about the EMF meter as if he was hearing things... Sam just hoped that with a headache, his brother hadn’t decided that a drink was the best medicine. That usually ended pretty badly. But even when Sam finally got up, it was already too late. The Mailbox had picked up and a beep filled the room. Since the last incident where Bobby had called to tell him that Dean had escaped and he had been taped to a wall by Zachariah, he had made it so his phone would just talk the message out loud if the phone was not on silent. So right now, a voice sounded across the room. The voice Sam Winchester would know anywhere.

“Sam! Damnit pick up your goddamn phone and get outta bed. I found the nest. On pure accident, I swear! It’s a bar called ‘Nightslayer’ two blocks downtown. As an afterthought: No, I did not think the name could have been a hint! I don’t know how but I managed to hide in a kind of storage room. They can probably smell me all the way through the building so I gotta go. Hurry, it’s like twenty of them, I don’t know how long I’m gonna hold with just the demon knife.” And with a strange crushing noise, the call was interrupted, leaving the loud *toot* to fill the room again and a startled as well as frozen Sam by the bed.

“Oh crap.” He just breathed. His laziness was completely forgotten now. The younger Winchester put over some layers of clothing (since he had just sat there in comfy trousers and a shirt), grabbed the car keys and ran outside, his jacket clumsily pulled over his arms. He practically sprinted to the Impala, opened the trunk and grabbed two or three machetes as well as their pack they had prepared for vampires back at Bobby’s. Dead Man’s blood.

Cursing over and over under his breath, he ran down the street, not caring that he just didn’t lock the motel room behind him or that he didn’t even have any socks on inside his shoes for that matter. All that mattered was that Dean was trapped in a restaurant with twenty vampires and crap, that were many monsters. Even his big brother, who was the best hunter Sam knew, wouldn’t hold out long against that many supernatural creatures with superhuman strength, sense of smell, sight and hearing, not to forget the teeth. This was not good, really not good…

 

* * *

 

The thing was…it didn’t go down as bad as Dean had expected. He really didn’t know why but this good sense of smell and good sight thing lasted for a whole of 5 long minutes now and it made him so aware of his surroundings that he felt like a vampire himself, being able to tell that they were coming or that they found him even before they probably knew it themselves. Dean was surprised as to how big this building was. He had long retreated to the back, having wandered through the kitchen and some supply rooms. Already two or three vampires were dead and he was quite proud of that, after all, the hunting knife he used was quite short and normally not made for beheading. He didn’t know why but he had been able to just slice through them as if he had the normal machete with him. It had been a lot more bloody and violent but he had managed it. Now his shirt and jacket were caked in vampire blood and he would be grossed out if it wasn’t for the more than dire situation. Maybe he really was turning vampire. Then again there was no thirst for blood in him at all. That was a little strange, right?

Oh god, did a demon get inside him and waited for an opportunity? No, wait, that wasn’t possible, he reminded himself. He had the tattoo that prevented demons from entering. Just to be sure, he lifted his shirt a little over his chest to check if it was still intact. A breath left his lips with relief. It was still there and intact. Good. No demon then. He wanted to go through more possibilities but was interrupted by another noise, this time coming closer. Oh great, they had found him again. He swallowed and took a deep breath, as quietly as he could. He put away the phone he had just used to call Sammy and put it into his back pocket. Then he listened some more. Two of them, maybe a third. Shouldn’t be that much of a problem. With a nod to himself, he stepped out of the room and into the kitchen, facing the monsters in the other room.

Two vampires spotted him immediately. The third one was by the window and watched something apparently really interesting. They were in another one of the rooms behind the kitchen, it was dark and the little light that flooded the room was coming from the flashlight on the street outside.

Through the window you could see the back of the restaurant facing some kind of courtyard, with trashcans and everything. Right next to the window was a door that probably led outside. Damn. If only he had crossed the room he was hiding in sooner, he would have been able to escape and regroup with Sam. He desperately needed better weapons. Dead Man’s blood maybe. Now he tightened his grip around the knife and gulped.

“Oh, so the hide and seek is over?” asked the vampire by the window, still staring outside into the backyard.

“Yeah. I had the strong craving to see your ugly face again.” Dean countered, a stark contrast to the snarky, calm voice of the vampire. His two subordinates glared at him for the insult but the man at the window just chuckled.

“How nice. I always heard you had an attitude, Dean Winchester.” He said his name like it was something special that rolled over his tongue with pleasure, but not in a good way. More like the ‘I will enjoy killing you’-way. Which was never good. Wait, why did he know his name anyway? Sometimes it was so spooky how every monster seemed to just know who he was.

“Oh great, you know my name. You’ve done your homework, congratulations. Now could we get to the part where you shut up and I get to kill you?” he said, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world, especially not three bloodthirsty vampires and probably on their way. Well, he did kill several already, when they came to look for him alone he had taken them from behind but Dean was pretty sure there were maybe five more left next to the ones in the room. Again, he was ignored.

“Do you know what fascinates me about you humans?” asked the vampire. His long black hair was drawn back into a ponytail and he seemed to have one of those faces you saw on magazine covers. But he had dark shadows under his eyes and his face in general looked extremely creepy, pale and cold as it was. He wore an outfit that might have been modern 50 years ago and had an arrogant aura around himself. Wait, Aura? Never mind that. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This sounded like another one of these boring rants monsters or villains got so often when they thoughts they had already won.

“No. Enlighten me please.” He spit with such sarcasm that even the vampire couldn’t miss it.

“It’s how they somehow always seem to think that they…” he grinned and turned just at the moment the door slammed open. With horror, Dean watched as Sam walked in. Well, that was the good part. The bad part was that he was held by two vampires, who kept the lanky man between them.

Pride swelled in Dean at the sight of the struggling monsters. Not many men could make vampires, who had superior human strength, struggle like that. The knives and their pack of Dead Man’s blood Sam had brought were dropped to the floor where the vampires came to a halt. Sam fought to get free of course but one of the two vampires who were still in the room walked up to him now, grabbing one of the knives and held it to the younger Winchester’s neck.

“…can surprise us.” The chief vampire –Dean had decided he was some kind of leader- finished his sentence. Dean’s teeth were pressed together tightly. His upper lip quivered with rage and his fists were balled while his chest felt like somebody punched him in the gut.

“Let him go.” He demanded in as calm a tone as he could manage. Sam glanced over to him, his head bent back by the vampire but his hazel eyes searched those of his brother.

“Dean-“

“It’s okay, Sammy.” He said, trying to put as much reassurance in his voice as he could. Of course, Sam was grown and could fend for his own but Dean knew that he was still the big brother and it was his job to get them out of shitty situations like this. Or the Apocalypse. Or the whole Azazel thing. He then turned to the vampire in chief.

“You sneaky son of a bitch.” He said, trying to keep his voice from trembling with rage. Because that’s what he was right now, angry. This motherfucker was holding a blade to Sam’s neck and the knifes as well as the dead man’s blood his brother brought were uselessly put to the floor right next to him where Dean couldn’t reach it because, well…those damn vampires filled up the room and the things were darn fast. He had been in worse situations of course, but right now he really could do with something easy as salt-and-burn ghosts and not ten sneaky ass vampires threatening the life of his brother.

“What, you expect me to think just one Winchester would show up without the other? I guessed one of you would try to distract us. Though the hide and seek part seemed a little childish to me.” He snarled, grinning while he stepped forward. Dean’s eyes narrowed and he ducked a little, bent his knees ready to jump, the knife still in hand. It was a wonder they hadn’t attempted to disarm him already. Were they underestimating him? Oh, they would pay for that…

“How do you know our names? It’s not like we all wander around wearing name plates.” Sam asked, his teeth pressed together but his voice clear and collected. Dean had to smile. Always asking the right questions, his Sammy. Even with the little fight about the Michael-Lucifer thing Sam was still his brother and he thought that by now, Dean understood why Sam had been so frustrated by the idea Michael might jump his bones. It would have been like losing him all over again. Though this time it would have been worse because…well, an Archangel would use his body to deep-fry half the planet.

Dean didn’t have the chance to explain his real motivations between his actions to his brother and now that they escaped from one of these close-call angel confrontations, he didn’t want to bring it up again. Because he knew Sam would get angry and he knew that he probably wouldn’t understand, Dean wasn’t even sure if he was able to explain it properly.

But just to sum it up for him: he would gladly do _anything_ , even let Michael jump his bones, if it meant that Sam didn’t have to take Lucifer in. And it wasn’t about faith in Sam, like his little brother seemed to think. That wasn’t even it. After the demon blood thing was over he had grown to see that maybe, at the time, Ruby had seemed like the way out of misery to Sam. And with the blood already driving him to her it hadn’t been easy to resist and stand up against her with his brother. Dean hadn’t been there when the whole thing started and it wasn’t Sam’s fault that Ruby was the sneaky little bitch she was. Sam had made mistakes, yeah but so had he. And Dean had forgiven.

But Lucifer…it was really never about Sam’s will when it came to Lucifer. He was the damn devil and Dean would bet his right hand he had persuasion abilities no demon could ever dream about. Lucifer would play dirty, Lucifer would play unfair. Lucifer would do anything, _anything_ to get to his baby brother and make him his vessel so he could make the world his little fairy kingdom. So when Michael had him, also his true vessel, before Lucifer did…

“One of my men saw your car enter town. You might reconsider keeping the same ugly vehicle when someone like basically all of hell _and_ the host of heaven itself are on the lookout for you.” The vampire interrupted Dean’s musings with an arrogant smile. Dean stared at him some more.

Nobody called his baby ugly. That vamp would pay.

Also, there was something so wrong with his face…like he may be pretty on the outside but there was something so, so ugly right beneath the skin, something he couldn’t quite grasp or focus on, even with his ‘improved sight’ that made every particle of dust glister in the streaming light of the streetlight falling through the window or made him see everything that was in the room clear as day with sunglasses even though the lights were out. He ignored the insult about his baby for now and glared at the chief vampire some more.

“So what, you gonna hand us out to Lucifer now? Get a little pat for doing your schoolwork at monster academy correctly?” he snarled, a bitter tone mixed in with his deep voice but vamp in chief laughed.

“I don’t work for that bastard. No. There’s nothing in for me if I take you to him. And neither is there if I just let you live. If I kill you the angels would probably just get you back up. So…” his grin went wider. Dean already suspected what the vampire wanted. What else would he want, that bloodsucking freak. Always eager to make their kind bigger and stronger. The barkeeper back then had just wanted to feed but this one was obviously having second thoughts about that plan. The grinning vamp turned to Sam.

“Why not make you one of ours?” he said. Immediately, Sam’s eyes widened and he began to struggle again, pulling on the grip of the two vampires, one of them, a woman, had her arms around him.

“No! No, never! You hear, me, NEVER! I would rather die than become one of your filthy, dirty bloodsu-“ he was interrupted by a fist punching him square in the face. It was the vampire who held the knife to his neck. Dean tried to take a step forward but the other vamp growled and stood in between him and his brother with bared fangs –or second set of teeth, whatever.

The one who had punched Sam was another female and she looked distractingly good. But she also had this …thing under her skin. Like something shimmering through that took the illusion away. Her face was displaying hot anger and he bent over while the other two vampires forced Sam to his knees. They held him tight while he kept struggling. His head was drawn back and even though he held his mouth tight and his teeth together, they managed to pull them apart, the woman already taking the machete Sam had brought and holding it to her own wrist.

Dean felt as if he was drowning. Blood was rushing through his head as he tried to figure out a way out of this. They wanted to turn Sam. Well, they couldn’t do that…right? They just couldn’t. Once a vamp there was no way back, that’s what his father had always told him. Hadn’t he just considered a few minutes ago that he was a vampire himself? But no, right now he was pretty sure he wasn’t. There wouldn’t be that much desperation in him and more craving for blood if he was. More headaches and drumming of heartbeats coming to him across the room or even across town. He did hear a drumming beat of his own heart and a very faint one of Sam’s. And he wouldn’t let them stop that. That heart would keep going until the person it belonged to was old and had kids and grandkids and whatnot. He was fighting for that, hadn’t given up until now just to achieve that.

“Oh no you don’t.” he finally snapped out of his musings when he saw the vampire lift her bloody wrist to Sam’s mouth. There was no plan in his head, just wild rage and desperation for his little brother and his still beating heart.

Before he even knew it and before even the vampires did, he was on the other side of the room, by the open door and snatched the machete off the ground. With one smooth movement he beheaded the one male vampire that held Sam, then ducked behind his brother and did it with the other one (the female) too. Sammy, surprised at the sudden lack of restraint, fell on his butt. Dean saw how he regained his composure and grabbed for the other Machete on the floor, going for the vampire that had stood between Dean and him while the one that had tried to turn Sam was going for Dean now, attacking him with the machete in one hand and her fangs out. Dean didn’t know how but he dodged her and hit her in the side very hard, knocking her to the ground.

His teeth were still pressed together in blind rage and the hunter stepped two steps forward and found himself with the chief vampire, who hadn’t interfered at all. The guy tried to hit him with his superhuman speed and strength, tried to grab him and was faster than any vamp the hunter had faced before but Dean just dodged again and pressed him to a wall with all his might. Cracking was heard as the wall seemed to crumble like it was made out of paper and the guy in his grasp, though he didn’t need air and probably didn’t feel much pain, cried out.

“And this is how humans can surprise you, sonofabitch.” He said, lifting his machete to the vampire’s neck. Staring at him with wide eyes, the vampire got out a few words even though his windpipe was pressed together. He sniffed at Dean’s arm –strangely enough- and his dark eyes grew even wider. Was it just him or did he seem almost…frightened?

“You… _you’re not human_.” He breathed. Was it awe? Fear? Resentment? Dean really wasn’t sure. But he didn’t listen anyway and just cut off the guy’s head, almost enjoying the sight of the blade cutting through his skin, muscle and bones. Just as the head dropped to the floor, blindly staring into nothing and the ugly below the face now gone, the older Winchester felt something jump him from behind.

“Dean, watch out!” he heard his brother cry out as strong arms wrapped around him and didn’t seem to let go. He struggled, wanting to fight free when he felt something sink into his neck –fangs.

“Damnit, you bitch. Let go!” He hissed as he felt the female vamp from before wrapping her arms and legs around him to hold him and obviously suck all the blood out of him. How long did that take anyway? The hunter really didn’t want to find out. He heard a chuckle by his neck, vibrating against his skin when suddenly, the chuckle turned into a scream and the vamp was off him.

But it wasn’t Sam that had gotten her off, as Dean had expected. The woman was holding her mouth with panic in her eyes and she was staring at Dean as if he was the freak, as if he was the one that had unnatural fangs growing out from his skull and not her. Before she could say anything, Sam had beheaded her from behind, taking her hands off too, his breathing heavy and his clothes full of blood. He looked downright exhausted. Dean got up now too, holding his neck where the fangs had struck. A grumble escaped his throat.

“Bitch. What the hell happened, she had me so good I thought I was done for.” Honestly, he was puzzled. Sam looked as if he was too. No more vampires were around now, Dean couldn’t hear anything special either. His super-hearing and sight was gone and he cursed under his breath as he leaned down to examine the woman’s head. His breath was sucked in and he heard Sam do the same when he came down beside his brother.

“Her mouth…it’s like she was burned from the inside, like she swallowed acid.” Sam said and Dean just nodded, his face suddenly really pale. He lifted his hand from the wound to stare at the blood in it. She had been drinking his blood… Sam beside him looked at him and at his hand, seemingly having the same conclusion. Oh god. What the hell was happening to him? Quickly, Dean got up to mask his horror.

“Doesn’t matter, she’s dead. Come on, we should look for the rest of the vamps.” He held his neck again and looked Sam over for injuries. Other than the cut on his neck and a few cuts around the arms and his right leg he seemed pretty fine. Exhausted, but fine. Strangely enough, Dean felt like he could do it all over again. _Better not mention that_ , he thought. He saw how his little brother glanced around the room, staring at the cracks where Dean had pressed the chief against the wall, then back at the woman, at the other vamps…

“Come on, Sammy. We don’t have all night. They probably tried to flee.” He said, dragging Sam by the sleeve, not wanting him to drink in all the strange things Dean just did or that happened around him. How the hell did he get to the other side of the room so fast? Dodge the vamps, surprised them, beheaded them without them being able to react at all? Pressed the chief against the wall so hard that the solid concrete wall cracked? And why couldn’t the woman drink his blood? Why did it deep-fry her from the inside? Or was it something else entirely?

With a feeling of dread, the two of them searched the rest of the restaurant. As Dean had feared, the rest of the vamps had fled already. It left the building empty and spooky, resulting in Dean suggesting to leave immediately, return to the motel room and stitch themselves together again. Reluctantly, Sam agreed but Dean could see he was still thinking about what happened and it made him edgy. Whatever was happening to him, he didn’t want it to worry Sam, too. The guy had enough on his mind already and he didn’t want any more of it to bother his little brother.

 

* * *

 

Back at the motel, after burning the bodies of the vamps they did kill, Dean washed away the blood from his neck and cleaned the wound with whisky, as they did most of the time. Well, at least he tried to. The problem part was: There was no wound to clean any more. As soon as the blood was off his neck looked like it had never been injured at all. He was sure there had been a damn big wound there with deep tracks where the fangs had entered his skin.

Green eyes wide, Dean leaned forward to see the spot a little clearer. But he didn’t even need to. His eyes had seen the spotless skin even from a little distance away from the mirror. His super senses were a little weaker than at the bar, under adrenalin possibly but they were still better than normal, as if all his life he may have needed slight glasses and now his sight was back at 150%. Just that he was pretty sure nobody saw the world that clearly and it freaked him out. That was nothing compared to the wound problem though…

“Dean, you finished in there?” Sam’s voice came through. He probably wanted to use the bathroom to wash up for the night. Quickly, Dean responded.

“Just finishing the bandage.” He said, rushing to grab some band aids and while rushing he knocked the whole first aid kit over, making it fall to the floor with a crash that was far too loud for his ears. He cursed under his breath and leaned down to grab it. Suddenly, Sam poked his head through the door, a questioning eyebrow raised. As quick as he could, Dean pressed a bandage looking thing against his neck where the bite should have been and grinned sheepishly at his brother.

“Eh…almost done. You get…changed or something, I’ll just…it’s fine, everything’s fine.” He stammered, just noticing how stupid he sounded after it was already out. Now both of Sammy’s eyebrows were raised but he nodded and stepped back into the bedroom again, leaving Dean alone. A breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding left the older brother and he rushed to wrap some bandage around his neck like he normally would, driving his finger through the sink to catch some of the washed off blood and smear it where the blood would be coming through due to the open bite at his neck. He checked himself in the mirror and nodded. Yup, looked completely natural. _As natural as a vampire bite can get, I guess._

Returning to the room, he dropped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Sam was still changing, just pulling a shirt over his head that wasn’t full of vampire blood.

“You do know the rest of them will be after us, right? They had your scent.” Sam commented, disappearing through the open bathroom door.

“Yeah well, we’ll just be prepared and strike them right back. Don’t worry, we dealt with vamps before. There were only like three left. Shouldn’t be a problem.”, he dismissed Sam’s concern and closed his eyes. When his brother answered after a short silence, his voice was lower, as if he didn’t really wanted to address this topic.

“What, like you took care of them back there?” he asked. It was his serious voice and Dean cured under his breath. Dimmit. So he did what he always did when Dean Winchester didn’t want to talk about something: He changed the subject.

“You know what I could do with right now? Some cold beer.” He said, dropping back on the mattress and staring at the ceiling so he didn’t have to meet his brother’s gaze or his voice in this case. Sam, unfortunately for Dean, caught on to what his older brother was up to. He rolled his hazel eyes and walked out of the bathroom to fully face his big brother, dropping the first aid kit on the bed with a finishing motion.

“Dean. Don’t do this again.”

“What?” Dean asked with as much innocence as he could muster. Sam glared some more.

“Changing the subject. You always do that when you want to avoid a subject you don’t want to talk about or a chickflick mo-“

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Dean half shouted while interrupting his brother, almost grossed out by just how well the younger Winchester knew him and his methods.

“It just happened, I acted on instinct and I have no fucking idea what the hell is going on. Please, Sammy, I’m telling you the truth. Just…let’s get some sleep. I’m sure you’re tired.” He clarified. It had been on purpose that he had said ‘you are tired’. Because he really wasn’t. He was just lying on the bed to calm himself and make the impression that he was just as tired as Sam was.

Again, his brother’s gaze was resting on him with something between disbelieve,  wariness and concern and it freaked him out to see this expression so he just turned himself around, making his back face his brother and he himself was staring at the wall of the rancid motel room. The paint was peeling off but it was better than confronting Sam about what happened tonight. Because he was just as freaked out as he probably was, if not even more. He hadn’t told Sam about the voices that called him General and the superhuman senses…

“Okay…thanks.” Sam finally said, a defeated sigh but also a tone of real thankfulness for Dean’s honesty with him. The younger hunter made himself as comfortable as possible and closed his eyes while facing the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

At some point, Dean had lost consciousness. His dreams were a blur, really. A whirl of colors and schemes he had never seen before and he felt like he was drowning but at the same time floating, swallowed by light and fire, bright as the sun itself and hotter than the flames of hell. There was wrath enveloping him, making him want to hunt and slay and cut down creatures but at the same time he was filled with pure content, forgiveness and so much more.

It was like something was happening without him being able to take control. But he was fine, wrapped in light and just bits and pieces seemed to push through to him.

_“How did you get in here? Wait, aren’t you Dean Winchester?” there was horror in the voice he was hearing and he saw bits, flashes of faces. A dark skinned guy, a Hispanic and several others, maybe 5 of them in whole. They seemed pretty but Dean was able to see right through the mask. They were vampires._

_“Sorry.” He heard himself say. What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t he control his tongue? “Dean Winchester is not available at the moment. Your people disturbed my plan and tried to get a taste of my vessel’s blood. Be glad that your sibling was killed before I got to her, otherwise the fate of all of your kind would have been fatal. Now you will pay for your sins against the Lord and her corpse shall never be seen again.” He felt a wave rushing through him and suddenly, without being able to protest, all five of the Vampires sank to their knees, flames erupting from their eyes and mouth, like they were throwing up fire, until they sank to the floor, their mouth and eyes completely burned out and they didn’t stand up again._

Suddenly, he was standing in a room. It was as if the other channel had just been switched off and he wondered what the hell that had been about. He had never in his life ever heard or dreamed of something like that. The screams of the burning vampires still echoed in his head. This room seemed perfectly normal though. In fact it did look exactly like the room he had fallen asleep in. But then he _really_ looked around.

Sam was there, kneeling on the floor with his hands over his ears as if he was trying to shut something out. He seemed in severe pain and close to sobbing even. Dean felt himself starting to search for somebody to blame for his brother’s situation, someone to accuse and torture for doing that to his brother.

And there he was. Sitting on the edge of the bed like he had no care in the world was Lucifer himself.

Next to him on the bed he spotted himself, and he was covered in blood, flesh ripped off his skin on the chest and legs, his eyes staring at the ceiling, dead, unfeeling.

“Oh, so you do remember this well enough.” Remember? Was he talking to Sammy? Where should he remember- Oh.  Oh no.

This was what he had looked like when the hellhound had ripped him to shreds.

Suddenly it hit him just what it would have meant for Sammy and then later Bobby. They had to get him out of that house, make up some story about what happened, clean all of these wounds and bury him (Sam had insisted, Bobby had told him) while knowing exactly that at that moment he was down in hell, suffering his part of the deal he had made to save his little brother. And that little brother had blamed himself for that, all this time. He had tried everything and it hadn’t worked.

When Sam had apologized for not having been the one bringing him back, Dean hadn’t even scratched the surface of Sam’s guilt about what had happened. The older Winchester had just reappeared, talked about angels when Sam had turned to Ruby for assistance, and he had made Sam’s conscious even worse with telling him off, saying if he didn’t know him he would wanna hunt him. Right now he saw how Sam sat on the floor, shaking his head.

“No, please. Not this again. Just…go away.” He protested weakly. Wait, _again_? How often had Sam been through this?? Dean wanted to walk over and help his brother but he was frozen in place, could only watch. Lucifer grinned, sensing victory.

“I could make it all stop. The pain, the suffering. Dean is back with the living again, right? Well, I could change that. And make it last. It completely depends on your answer…”

Rage now really filled Dean. Oh this was just dirty, plain and outright dirty. He felt himself stir, felt like resurfacing from a deep sea and suddenly, he was sitting up in the same bed he had seen himself in just a second ago but he checked himself over and he was completely fine. Then his gaze fell on Sam on the other bed. He was covered in sweat and clenched his bed sheet with all he had, clinging to it for dear life. His breathing was heavy and his eyes still closed. He was clearly having a nightmare.

As if suddenly knowing exactly what had happened, Dean jumped out of bed, not tired at all, and walked over to Sam with big strides.

“Sam! Sammy! God dammit, wake up!” he shook his brother but he wasn’t waking, still too deeply drawn into his nightmare by Lucifer. Anger and desperation flooded him again and he laid a hand on his brother’s forehead to feel his temperature. A sudden calm soothed over his younger sibling and he breathed evenly before his eyes fluttered open.

“Dean?” he asked sleepily, blinking at his brother from below. “What are you doing here, what happened?” with a sigh of relief, Dean dropped back a little, sitting down on his brother’s bed beside him.

“You were having a nightmare. Lucifer- Well, never mind, it’s over now.” He said. Panic had flashed in Sam’s eyes at the mention of the fallen angel and Dean feared it wouldn’t be good if he mentioned that he knew exactly what Sam had dreamed about. His gaze wandered out the window. It was early morning. Time to move on.

“Come on, let’s get out of this town already.” He said, getting up to pack his stuff. Sam was a little disoriented and Dean felt him staring at him all morning but in the end, he followed him swiftly, wanting to get out of there just as bad as he did.

 

* * *

 

Unknown to both of the Winchesters, behind their motel there were five bodies, burned in the eyes and mouth as if they had drank lava and all of them dead. The doctors examining them would not see the second pair of teeth coming out of their scull. They would overlook that these flames had been so hot they could have burned much more than just the victim’s eyes.

And Dean drove his trusty car out of town thinking that all of that had been a silly part of his dream. The only strange thing on the drive was a sudden whisper in his head, clear as day and yet far away. A voice that he would never forget. And it would breathe into his ear…

_Angels are watching over you._

 

* * *

 

_Now in my remains_  
Are promises that never came   
Set the silence free   
To wash away the worst of me

_~In my Remains, Linkin Park_


	5. Decode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next weird hunt, this time in another way. Also introduction of a character that's gonna stay for a bit.

**Chapter 5**

_The truth is hiding in your eyes_  
And it's hanging on your tongue   
Just boiling in my blood   
But you think that I can't see   
  


Lucifer flinched. The demon beside him immediately raised an eyebrow and interrupted what he’d been saying.

“My Lord, are you-“

“Fine. Shut up and leave.” He snapped, holding his head. The demon had just been in the middle of a report but Lucifer had been elsewhere with part of his mind, specifically he had been with his true vessel, trying to get to him in a dream. But something had interrupted…something powerful.

The fallen angel walked over to the bathroom of the rotten motel he was staying in with his higher class demons, who were all reporting and taking off again, organizing the Apocalypse for his pleasing. He leaned on the basin and to his irritation, his hands were shaking a little. Staring at them as if willing them to stop, his gaze got furious. Who did this? Who was powerful enough to throw him out of Sam Winchester’s dream like that? He had felt a tuck, a bright light and a presence he couldn’t quite place.

_Could it be…no, he hasn’t returned to earth yet. If he’d be in his true vessel, I would know. Calm down, calm down._

He took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror. His temporary vessel was peeling his skin off, as if boiling him from the inside, which was actually pretty accurate. His big brother couldn’t be behind this. All the spies he possessed said that he was still in heaven, controlling the forces against him but his vessel had deceived him in the green room, had fled together with his two brothers. So it couldn’t be him, right? But then he didn’t know who else. No angel was on the younger Winchester’s side right now, that Castiel fellow was dead or close as far as he was concerned and Zachariah was done for -he should thank that bastard elder Winchester for that.

Rage enflamed him again and he tried to get his mind back into Sam’s, force him to listen to him. But even if he tried hard and harder, pushing with all his force, there was something that was blocking him, like a wall. Furious, his hands clenched to fists and the basin below his fingers splintered into a thousand pieces, some of them sinking into his skin that was immediately healed of the wounds.

The damage spread along the tiles in the walls and the mirror, a tremble going through the room, the hotel and finally the city, like a wave of power, centering around him. His eyes furious and narrowed, the morning star turned around and yelled for his high demons. Immediately, they appeared and when they saw Lucifer’s face, they simultaneously straightened.

“Sent out Pestilence to do as he pleases. Make the Croatoan go wild, I have had enough patience down in that damn cage. If Michael wants a war, he can have a damn war. Now go!” he yelled, his voice was so forceful he was blowing the glass of the windows out and making the floor underneath them shake with his rage. One of his demons dared to open its mouth.

“But, my Lord-“ and he immediately exploded, blood of his vessel sprayed the walls and red sparks from the dying demon soul were running over the ground. Lucifer’s furious gaze had banished him from this world.

“Am-I-understood?” he said in a low voice that drove through the very soul of every demon present (and in the perimeter of a few kilometers) and they all nodded in unison, black and red eyes shimmering with fear as they disappeared from the now wrecked motel room and the town would later speak of an earthquake no scientist had been able to foretell that had wrecked half the town’s houses and cost many people’s lives.

Of course, Lucifer didn’t care. They would all die, anyway. This would be his planet soon and no matter who had dared to get in his way, they would definitely regret it…

~.~.~.~

Dean’s fingers drummed against the stirring wheel of the Impala as he drove along the road. Sam had spoken to Bobby on the phone just a few minutes ago and the old hunter had told them that working with Adam was a real relief since the young lad could help him out in the household and with the research really well and he had taught him a thing or two about hunting, just so he would be able to defend himself in the future. Adam reassured them that it was what he wanted, after all, one of those monsters had killed his mother and he was eager to kill every little bitch that threatened other families and loved ones. Dean wasn’t very fond of the thought of having another formerly innocent family member in the business but after all, Adam did fall into this situation and it was his choice, not Dean’s. Still, he grumbled his protest and earned a sad smile from Sam.

Bobby also reported he had a pretty weird hunt for them. People were turning to dust in this town, literally.

_“There are reports of them getting sick and then slowly burning up to a pile of dust. Oh and the children in town are going missing. Dunno what it is but you better check that one out, boys.”_

He was guessing it was maybe pestilence because that sickness was completely exotic and shouldn’t be turning up anywhere except maybe near that horseman. Nothing else would be that powerful to work their mojo in such big a radar, right?

The lead led them a few towns over to a guy that was supposed to have worked with their dad a few times. Dean and Sam were both a little skeptical about this, having met old working buddies of their father before. Other hunters were nothing to be easy around. Some could be very shady, meaning that they had heard the wrong things about them or didn’t work well with their father, judging the two brothers by John’s actions. They had been through basically all of those possibilities before.

Finally, after too many hours of driving and having Sam snoring in the passenger seat, the Impala drove her wheels onto the driveway of the house the hunter was supposedly staying in. It was in a rather normal part of a small town in Illinois and Dean frowned at the thought that a hunter might live here. With a skeptical glance that both brothers exchanged, they closed in on the front door, lifting a hand to ring the doorbell.

Strangely enough, the door was already open a gap. Having seen some doors being forced open before, both Winchesters immediately had their warning signals flare in their heads. Their guns were out faster than you would think and they were covering the walls with their backs to not make such an easy target for anybody waiting for them inside and maybe sneak up on them.

Inside the house, mostly everything was a mess. Books were torn from shelves, the telephone was unplucked, there was a mess of newspapers on the floor of the entrance hall and when you looked up the stairs, there was even more paper there, flying around in matters that looked almost intentional. As If not searching was the point but actually messing things up, maybe cover something? Dean shoved aside a pile of papers to reveal a blood stain on the floor, which made him raise his eyebrows. He looked over his shoulder to his brother and motioned for him to take the left side of the house while he went to the right. Sam nodded, his gun still in hand and ready to fire immediately.

Whatever went down here wasn’t good, Dean decided. Different scenarios were playing in his head while his ears listened for something out of the ordinary. His too sharp eyes took in every detail of the mess, which extended to the kitchen he crossed and over to the living room where Sam walked in on the other end. When he spotted his brother, Sam lowered his gun, Dean did the same.

The younger Winchester sighed. He looked better than he had in days, maybe even weeks. That solid sleep in the car seemed to have done him some good. Dean had silently prayed that Lucifer would stay away from Sam’s dreams. Yeah, he had prayed. Screw it, he cared about his brother’s sanity a lot more than about what anybody might think of him. Sam turned and peeked out a window. Since they had set a foot in the house, none of them had exchanged a word and their footsteps had been silent.

Suddenly, Dean heard something behind him. Sam didn’t react but the older brother heard it clear as a bell. And before he knew, a gun was pointed to his head. The hammer was pulled and that made Sam turn and his eyes widen.

“Dean!” he warned, too late to do anything about it. The older Winchester himself was just standing there, his eyes narrowed, taking in everything as if in slow motion. He saw Sam wanting to run towards him but stop in his tracks when he saw the gun was already pointed. The older hunter reacted to the situation before he could really think. He felt himself lower his knees, whirl around, knock the person behind him to the floor with a sweeping motion of his legs and arms, plus take the gun out of the person’s hands. A shot hit the ceiling above them, narrowly missing Dean’s head but he didn’t pay attention to it. He then sat on top and pointed the attackers own gun right to their forehead.

A moment of silence filled the room as Dean noticed he had his knee on a woman and his hands pointed a gun to a woman’s head. He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. Even if he wanted to, the woman beat him to it.

“Lemme guess. Dean Winchester?” she said with mocking amusement in her voice. She had dark brown hair and a pretty face but her clothing and facial expression suggested that she was tougher than the first glance suggested. Not counting that she just pointed a gun at him. Dean narrowed his eyes. Since she didn’t seem much of a thread and there was nothing hiding under her skin as Dean liked to put it since the Vampires, he got up and tossed the gun into the nearest sofa after discharging it with one hand.

“Yeah. How come everybody knows my name nowadays? Did I miss a memo?” he asked, turning to his brother, who just shrugged while walking over. The woman got off the floor and brushed the dirt off her comfortably fitting clothes. She ignored Dean’s comment completely as well as his mustering stare.

“And you must be Sam, then?” she asked, stretching out her hand to him in a fluid motion, a sly smirk on her face while she looked him up and down. She had done the same with Dean earlier though her gaze on Sam lasted longer, taking in all 6’5”. Sam frowned but shook it off quickly.

“Yeah. May I ask why you’re trying to shoot my brother when you know who we are?” his gaze implied a ‘and who the hell are you?’-bitch face, which made Dean grin inwardly. The woman sighed, rolling her eyes as if that was a completely dumb question. Her hand at her hip, she answered in a knowing voice.

“Even though my father told me John Winchester’s sons were coming, that didn’t mean you actually are inside. You could’ve been fighting a monster (which I assumed did this mess)…or you could be one yourself.” She grinned, then her grin slipped again, her expression turning ice cold.

“You can still be possessed. Or shapeshifters.” with a swing, she got out a silver knife and something that looked like a normal drinking bottle but probably contained holy water. Dean cursed inwardly. Why was meeting other hunters always this complicated? He remained calm, even if he was more annoyed than calm.

“Calm down. We’re the real deal. Sam, show her on yourself, I’ll test her.” Sam nodded, getting out his own silver knife.

 

* * *

 

“So. You live here with your father? You’re a hunter yourself?” Sam asked. After the tests were done and everybody seemed to be positively human –though Dean wasn’t very keen on proving it further with himself at the moment- they had begun to tidy the house and look for clues together. The woman’s name was Abigail but most people called her Abby, which she insisted on once Dean started to tease her how old fashioned her name sounded and Sam having to pull her away after she tried to cut Dean’s throat. Not that she would have been able to, Dean tried to convince himself. Even if she _was_ pretty fast, the hunter had to admit. Abby now turned around, having previously concentrated on the blood that was still on the floor of the entrance hall. She looked a bit concerned but nodded at Sam.

“Yeah. Hunter in training more like it. Larry’s not my real dad though, he was a family friend and took me in after-“ she broke off, gazing into the distance. Both Winchesters exchanged a look and it was pretty clear to both of them that Abby had experienced something horrible and was just beginning to cope with it. Her full lips pressed together and she contained her expression by pulling her emotions in and not wearing it on her face anymore. Her composure was stiff but self-conscious.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now and according to Larry I’m not half bad.” She said and the pride in her voice was subtle but noticeable either way. Abby told them about what Larry had found out and what was going on in town. Some people seemed to blame Larry, who had a reputation to be quite strange, for some rather unfortunate and…gross illnesses that had befallen the small town.

“Why would it be his fault? What’s so suspicious about illness?” Dean asked while Sam nodded in confirmation that he was about to ask the same. Abigail sighed.

“Well, that’s just it. It’s not just any illness, the people are turning to dust.” She specified. A shudder went through her. “I saw it happen. Looks nastier than you would think. All the fire and the blood…” another shudder from her before she took a deep breath to relax herself.

“Anyway. I don’t really understand the whole blaming thing but I have the feeling it’s not really normal, either. Call it a woman’s intuition but I think whatever we’re up against is playing these people like clay characters in a Tim Burton movie.” She said, her eyebrows raised in thought. Dean blinked and opened his mouth before closing it again to catch himself.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean but you could be right about the controlling thing. You know we met War, the horseman? He did something like that as well. Maybe they’re working together now?” he asked, worry laced in his tone. If that was possible, they were probably screwed big time. But Sam shook his head immediately.

“No, they can’t. War is powerless without his ring, Dean. And we wasted Famine too, so there’s just Pestilence and Death left on the chess board. Could be one of them. Or neither…or both.” He sighed, tossing aside the papers he just collected off the floor. They had been cleaning up and tried to find something –anything- useful in this mess.

“We need more information.” The younger Winchester finally decided. He turned to Abigail. “Abby, where have they taken the dead people? Is there a hospital where they bring the sick? Anything?” he asked. The young woman nodded in thought.

“Yeah, of course. I can show you guys around if you want to.” She offered. Just before he could answer, Dean felt something vibrate in his pocket. Puzzled, he got out the phone, frowning at the screen. Immediately, his face fell. He looked up to Sam.

“No, no you…you two go. I’ll see if I can find anything else around here.” He said, swallowed and then turned around. Sam looked after him worriedly but he knew that expression. Something was up that Dean wanted to be alone with. And he already had a guess what it was. Of course it was fine by him. So Abigail and Sam went into town, while Dean stayed at the house, glad that his little brother understood him without a word.

The ringing had stopped by now but Dean was staring at the screen, his finger hovering over the button that would allow him to call back.

Lisa.

The name flashed there as if this was normal, as if it was a regular thing that Lisa called him to check up on him and that thought alone made him feel al fuzzy inside. No, no scratch that. Dean Winchester did _not_ feel fuzzy. Never. ugh...

With a deep breath, he forced his thumb down and held the flip phone to his head, staring ahead through one of the giant windows in the living room. She picked up after two rings.

“Hello?” asked her voice, soft and careful as if fearing somebody else than Dean would be on the line. Dean cursed himself. He should have called sooner…Sam had told him to but he had buried it like he did with everything. There should be an end to that, Lisa deserved better.

“Yeah, hello, Lisa. You…you called.” He said and immediately felt like an idiot. Of course she called. She knew that herself. The thoughts about his meagerness were drowned when Lisa let out a sigh of relieve. A long and loud one.

“Oh thank God, you’re okay. I- yeah, I was just…worried, I guess.” She replied awkwardly. Dean had to smile a little. Lisa wasn’t calling him out on not calling her, she wasn’t pressing or anything, just checking, just making sure. Even though she couldn’t see it his face went from guarded and unsure to warm and he even gave a little smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I should have called. Probably scared the living hell out of you back then.” A laugh was heard from the other end and Dean again felt this …thing in his chest that was so unfamiliar but pleasant at all means. Her laugh kind of tickled.

“You did, actually. But I figured you weren’t the type of man to call back so I took the initiative myself. I’m glad you’re fine though. Sam seemed so panicked and he told me about this Apocalypse thing-“

“He did _what_? Oh, I’m _so_ going to kill him-“ Dean interrupted her. He wasn’t aware that Sam had actually told her about that. How could he? No wonder she was worried like hell! Had Sam told her she knew, he would have called right after they got back from the almost-Michael experience. But now…

“No, no, it’s fine. I asked, after all. Don’t blame Sam for it. I just wanted to…you know, check.” She paused and Dean thought he heard her take a deep breath. A side of him wondered what she was doing and where she was right now. In the living room? Was Ben there with her?

“Dean?” she asked after Dean hadn’t replied in any way. Oh crap, he had completely forgotten. It had just been so good to listen to her voice somehow –even if he would never really admit that- and he was too deep in thought to even think about responding.

“Huh?” he replied, feeling awkward and out of place. Why had she the power to do that to him? That was normally pretty hard to achieve.

“I just…wanted to tell you that If you ever want to…I mean if you still want that beer, I’ll be here. Ben too, you can always come over and see us. I-if you want.” She ended her sentence and there was a sudden heavy silence weighting him down as well as her. Dean’s brow was furrowed and he breathed in a few times to answer but just didn’t manage to. Finally, he calmed himself by just closing his green eyes and sighing deeply.

“Lisa, I…” he paused, then nodded even though she couldn’t see that of course. “Thanks. Thank you, really. I’ll do my best to get there when this is all over, I promise.” He smiled and seriously felt his eyes sting. _Really, Dean? What the hell is wrong with you these days? Crying? Nope, not an option!_ He whipped his eyes to make the wetness go away, force them down again before they spilled. Not for something like this. This…Fairytale dream of living with Lisa and Ben for some time, maybe even the rest of his life, happy, together, a family. No demons, no angels, no Apocalypse… He would just get Sam an apartment nearby and they could maybe even quit all the hunting, all the fighting. But could he really do that? Just lay everything down? Probably not. But it sure would be nice. The part of him that still dreamed often had Lisa in it. And Ben sometimes too. That little guy always seemed to be like him in ways he couldn’t quite place. Lisa had told him he wasn’t his son but it had somehow felt like he was, it had felt…right to be with them in that house. But like always, he hadn’t been able to stay. And he feared it would be the same if he actually went for that beer.

A thought occurred to him. Why was Lisa even calling? Shouldn’t she want somebody like him out of her life? Shouldn’t she run like hell in the opposite direction, dating some doctor or mechanic or whatever? Why was she calling him of all people? He really didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve her. At all. So why? But he didn’t ask her that, either. There was silence and finally, Lisa was the one to break it.

“That would be really nice. Just…be save, okay, Dean? Don’t do anything you would regret later and…just take care, alright?” Dean nodded in response, then realized she couldn’t very well see that and smiled to himself for that stupid thought.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll try. Thanks for calling, Lisa. Guess you made my day here. Hasn’t been pleasant until now. I’ll see you then.” He said and a pleasant chuckle was heard that eased the tension a bit before the-

“See you.” Was returned and the call was finished, ending with a “toot” sound echoing in Dean’s right ear. He sighed and flipped the phone shut. He looked around as if the older Winchester was just awaking from a dream, realizing just where he was. Sam probably had the car.

“Great, what now?” he mumbled and whipped his face with his free hand. The hunter dialed his brother’s number just to be told that Sam left Baby at the house and they had taken Abigail’s car. Good, that meant he could take Baby and drive somewhere else for investigation. Sam told him he could check out the mortician who had all the remains of the vics and Dean immediately got in the car to do so.

 

* * *

 

Questioning the mortician was a pretty boring gig if Dean was honest. The guy was old and babbled on about spirits that made people turn into stone and little fairies that were crushing them. Dean tried to ignore him and not break out in a rant about there being no such thing as fairies and that spirits didn’t turn people to stone. Besides, the victims looked more like dust than rubble so that was ruled out anyway. He called Sam about what he found and took a little sample of the dust with him for his brother and maybe Bobby to examine. Then he resumed his seat in the Impala again in order to make his way back to the city where he was going to work through the list of victims the mortician gave him and question the remaining relatives.

Sam on the other hand found himself with a really interesting task at hand. Not the job itself, that was like always: Strange and a giant pile of gross. No, the interesting thing was Abigail. Her methods at the hunting life were rather…alternative. Instead of lying her way through the hospital like Sam was used to by now, Abby approached the doctor with an honest statement of telling him that she wanted to find out what was happening in this town and that she wanted to help. At first the doctor wasn’t really sure she could help at all, not being a specialist but Abby just raised an eyebrow at him and asked if he seriously believed anything about this illness was normal and if they seemed like the normal everyday people. They were specialists, she said and just before Sam wanted to stop her and tell her to not reveal anything more, the older, grey haired doctor actually agreed upon helping them and answering questions.

“So it started about two days ago?” Abby asked, taking notes on a little small notebook she had brought. The doctor nodded and took a worried glance back at the patients lying in the isolated area, behind glass so they couldn’t infect anybody. Well, in theory.

“Yes. Problem is, we don’t know how it spreads. We have isolated all the patients and are going in with protective clothing but somehow we’re still getting in more and more and it seems to be completely random who it hits, lawyer or homeless, child or elderly…It started on the west side of town but by now it seems to be traveling on.” he stroked his hands through his hair in a desperate gesture, showing how stressed he was –if the deep black rings under his eyes weren’t hint enough of that.

“I don’t even know where to put all of them and that would be a problem, if…” he paused, coughing slightly. “Well, if they didn’t die so quickly…” he seemed stressed to even say it, embarrassed by his simple and too honest thinking. Sam just nodded though. It was a little cruel, yeah, but logical. The hunter frowned and looked over to the patients.

“How fast?” he asked. The doc looked up to him. He was about two feet smaller than him, which wasn’t an unusual situation for Sam but obviously for the doctor. His expression was seriously uncomfortable whenever glancing up at him. Abigail wasn’t that small, she might almost be Dean’s height. Frowning himself now, the doctor seemed to think about Sam’s question.

“24 hours exactly. I’ve never heard of any illness this accurate in fact. We can almost count the minutes down until the complete collapse happens.” he explained. Abigail looked worried now, she kept glancing up to Sam as if asking a silent question. The younger Winchester lifted an eyebrow, not understanding. Abby rolled her eyes and stepped forward again, asking herself.

“Can we take a look at them, please?”, she asked and then Sam was taken aback again because seriously, even though the girl oozed sass and seemed rather secure and sometimes even a little cold shouldered to Sam, she sure had a puppy-dog glance that may even overpower his own one. The intense brown in them didn’t make it any easier to ignore, either. Startled, the doc immediately nodded, accompanying them to the other end of the hall they were standing in, stopping just outside the security glass.

Immediately, Sam felt like throwing up. He was normally pretty tolerant when it came to wounds and had seen some really gross things. People eating each other, Gods carving people up and separating them into parts, swarms of bugs eating people…but he thought that this, this topped them all.

There was a man right before him and he was slowly turning to dust. That wasn’t the gross part though, no, the dust was the pleasant part. The worst part was that he wasn’t just crumbling like a stone, this seemed to spread like some kind of infection and it went layer by layer. On some body parts there was just the skin gone, the muscle tissue underneath was still visible, other parts revealed the bones underneath and his abdomen showed the organs still in them, slowly crumbling but visible to the open. Nobody even bothered to bandage the man because there was blood everywhere anyway, it was drenching the sheets, it was coming out of his mouth and even ears, slowly turning grey before their eyes and producing dust that fell onto the floor and bed.

Abigail next to Sam had her lips pressed together tightly and forced herself to look at the patient, obviously not wanting to be here and probably much more preferably in a bathroom, using the toilet for unusual purposes. She was staying strong though, biting her cheek and pressing her fingernails into her palms until the point Sam worried she might actually draw blood. The younger Winchester swallowed and took a deep breath himself.

“Okay that is…” he couldn’t find a word.

“Completely impossible? Gross? Disgusting? Sad? Frightening?” the doctor suggested. He had probably heard plenty of people say things like that. Sam just nodded.

“Yeah. Take your pick.” he said, even managing a small smile. Taking one last glance at the sleeping man –probably drugged to even be able to sleep even though he was most likely in so much pain-he guided Abby away from the scene by the shoulder. When they were into the hallway a few steps, the young woman quickly shook Sam’s helping hand away, indicating she didn’t need it but smiling her thanks at him anyway. The hunter himself turned to the doctor again, who was walking beside him.

“Hey, doc. Would you mind giving us a list of all the people you took in with this illness?”

 

* * *

 

“I got a list, Dean.”, Sam explained over the phone. Abby was just driving back to her house, which they had decided to use as a temporal base after checking the securities against the supernatural that were put up by Larry anyway.

“Yeah, me too. The mortician gave me the list of the dead and the relatives still kicking. You gonna put the addresses together at the house?” Dean asked and Sam made an affirmative sound.

“Just gonna finish this interrogation here. Wife of first victim is still alive, been outta town when the attack struck. They live right next to the forest. Should probably check that out too, you two make a map of the vics until now. Call ya later.” Dean said and was just about to hang up when Sam interrupted him.

“Wait.” he said, a little louder than he had wanted to. There was this strange feeling about this job…something wasn’t right. And something wasn’t right with Dean, too. He still had the mental image of Dean taking down those vamps in his head. And Dean knowing that he had dreamed about Lucifer when really, there had been nothing there to indicate that it hadn’t been a run-of-the-mill nightmare. But Dean wouldn’t talk, insisted on not knowing. When had it come to the point where Dean honestly didn’t trust him? Was it back at the motel where he had thrown his necklace in the bin? Was it when he had risen Lucifer? But Sam had thought they were back to basics again…so what was Dean hiding? And if he wasn’t hiding anything and really didn’t know, then what? There was something happening and Sam Winchester didn’t like it at all.

So if Dean wouldn’t, Sam had to figure out a way on his own. Problem was, there was a part of him that seemed to guess already, seemed to know…instead he refused it to be true. Had to be something else! But first, this plague or whatever it was needed to be solved.

“What?” Dean asked when Sam didn’t immediately get out what he wanted to say. The younger Winchester sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Just…be careful, alright? Promise me.” he could practically feel Dean roll his eyes on the other end, even expecting him to. But there was a serious tone that answered.

“I will.” A short pause followed but he wasn’t hanging up. Sam heard the grin in his voice at the next sentence.

“Everything going well with Abigail over there? She any good?” Sam didn’t know why his brother asked that. He raised an eyebrow until realizing what his brother was implying and felt himself turn red in the process. Dean wasn’t talking about her hunting abilities at all. Ashamed, he turned away from Abby and looked out the window.

“Dean! Get your mind outta the gutter. We have more important things to worry about right now.” he whispered and hoped the female hunter-in-training couldn’t hear it. The younger brother heard Dean laugh at the other end.

“Alright, alright. Just have fun you two, do your research and play prince charming, will ya? Show her just how many brain cells you have, geek girl.” Sam felt his cheeks flush more deep but playful anger was now rising in his chest.

“Dean! You-“ but before he could finish, his big brother just laughed and simply hung up on him. Sam stared at the phone with a death glare and flipped it shut, snorting an angry puff of breath through his pointy nose. He glanced over at Abby apologetically and smiled.

“Sorry. My brother sometimes…” he struggled for words. Even though Dean seemed strange in some situations, at least his teasing hadn’t changed… Abby just chuckled but she suddenly seemed sad. Her gaze staring out at the road was full of deeply buried pain.

“I get it. Had a big sister once, she used to tease me all the time.” she said, her voice thick. Since she didn’t continue, Sam didn’t press the topic any further. Of course, he was damn curious what happened to her family…but from personal experience he knew that pushing and pulling at the topic wouldn’t help anybody. She would tell him if she felt ready for it. Or not. Either was fine by him if it was making it easier for her. But the tone alone showed that her bigger sister was probably stone dead.

A shiver went and a very painful stab to the heart went through Sam just at the thought of that time when Dean was in hell, when he had thought he had lost his big brother for good. Back then he would have done anything for a little teasing, for just a fragment of his brother’s voice other than his mobile announcement to leave a message, which he had played over and over, feeling empty just at the thought of not being able to hear that voice in person ever again. The voice that had read a story to him when he was little, the voice that soothed him when he was waking from nightmares, the voice that reached out to him every damn time, even if he hadn’t wanted it to at that very moment.

To think that he had been damn close to losing Dean again just two days ago wasn’t really giving him a pep talk either. Sam just hoped that he never had to feel that emptiness again. He was pretty sure it would kill him completely.

For the rest of the trip back to the house they rode in silence, both of them deep in their own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

The interrogation had been far more useless than Dean had hoped. Stomping through the deep forest near the house he cursed whatever had caused this whole mess. On his phone he checked the picture of the city map Bobby had send him a few minutes ago. The woman had told him how she had found her husband half crumbled to dust on the floor and how she didn’t want to describe it because it was so gross she still threw up at the thought. Then she had actually thrown up –right over the legs of his jeans thank you very much- and apologized, cried on about how her little daughter was gone too and she couldn’t control herself but had invited Dean to tea. The hunter had refused more rudely than he had planned to but getting puked on wasn’t really his favorite pass time so he considered himself forgiven for that. Then he had gotten himself some equipment from the trunk of the impala (and a pair of new jeans) and made his way into the forest behind the house, EMF meter in hand as well as his trusty shotgun.

Suddenly, he stopped. Something rustled behind him. Gun pointed, he turned around and searched for a threat. Nothing was to be seen and his superhuman vision couldn’t make anything out either. Normal people would probably have already needed a flashlight but Dean was walking around without one, not needing it to see properly. Checking his surroundings again he walked on with careful steps, trying to not make a sound or step on a twig. Something was here…he could feel it. His feet took another step when he heard a fizzling sound beneath him.

“What the-“ he looked down and to his astonishment, there was some kind of black line he had stepped on. He kneeled down to examine it further and it seemed to be made of dust completely. His fingers tried to pick some of it up but under his touch, the tiny pigments just lit up white for a short moment, flew upwards towards the sky and vanished after a few feet.

“What the hell…”, he whispered and repeated the motion. Again, the pigments flew up. The hunter removed his foot from the line and to his utter astonishment, the thing just repaired itself again, more black dust coming out of the ground or from wherever.

Of course, he tried to find a source of the dust. He dug down into the ground under the line but it just fulfilled itself again by going down the hole and back up to connect to the rest.

“And I’ll say it again: What the hell is this?!” he breathed, his green eyes blinking at the line that seemed to go on forever into the forest as far as his advanced gaze could follow. The black dust seemed infinite and Dean could now hear or rather feel something approaching in the far distance. It was still far away but in his gut, something told him that when it got here, he should be far, far gone.

So for once, Dean Winchester ran. He took some pictures of the dust line with his phone and then turned around to run back in the direction he came from, when the phone in his hand rang. Quickly picking it up to not give himself away, Dean heard his brother’s voice sound through the speaker.

“Dean. Get back here. We found something and believe me, you’re definitely not going to like it…” Dean laughed while running, not feeling tired by the probably really fast and noisy sprint.

“Oh I believe you alright…”, he whispered back before he heard a scream from the other hand, making his blood run cold. That scream definitely belonged to Abigail.

Then, the line was cut and Dean was screaming his brother’s name into the phone, ignoring that he was probably chased himself.

“Sammy? SAM! _Dammit…_ ”

* * *

 

 _How did we get here?_  
I used to know you so well   
How did we get here?   
Well, I think I know  
  
The truth is hiding in your eyes   
And it's hanging on your tongue   
Just boiling in my blood   
But you think that I can't see   
  
What kind of man that you are   
If you're a man at all   
Well, I will figure this one out   
On my own 

_On my own._

_~ Decode, Paramore_


	6. Castle of Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit many perspective changes in this one. Hope it's not too confusing. Dean's situation is becoming rather obvious but I'm enjoying the denial everyone's in lmao. Hope you enjoy! Pls tell me if you do :)

**Chapter 6**

_Wash the poison from off my skin_  
Show me how to be whole again   
  


The panic in Dean’s chest was increasing with every mile he drove. It was getting wider, pressing against his lungs and making breathing uncomfortable as well as his heart beat unnaturally loud. Who knew what could happen by the time he got to the house? Sam wouldn’t answer his damn phone and that plus the screaming meant something really, really bad.

Finally, the house came into view. He stopped the car a short distance down the road to not alert whatever broke in and lifted his shotgun from the arsenal in the back, loaded with as much rock salt as he could find. Together with his trusty ivory pistol in his jeans, Dean made his way to the back of the house, carefully glancing to the windows just to be sure he wasn’t spotted. When nothing came into view, he didn’t know if he was supposed to be in a good or a bad mood about that.

Carefully opening the glass back door, he was surprised to find salt lines beneath every window and door, but the glass door as well as the windows shattered to the inside and the salt lines disturbed. If the house had been a mess before, it was far worse now. But that wasn’t what made Dean’s blood run cold. Sulfur in the frames of the windows and the stink in the air told Dean that there had been demons here.

Or still were.

No, his brother could handle a few demons on his own, no problem. And he had Abigail for help, too. What got him stopped in his tracks was the blood. And the complete emptiness of the house. There was no soul in sight, no sound to be heard at all. Red liquid was splattered on the floor and parts of the wall and if his experience and medical knowledge was good enough, he was pretty sure it was far too much for a wound that could be easily survived. There were tracks of blood across the floor as well as caked footprints, as if somebody had been dragged. Dean dropped his shotgun on the sofa and kneeled down to where the blood was, touching it.

“Sammy…” he whispered. This was his brother’s blood. The older Winchester had no clue how he knew that, he just did. That knowledge didn’t make him feel any better, either. Impatiently, the hunter paced the room, searching for any of them, any clue to anything, a location where they might be, _something_. He examined every inch for something out of place, even the little freed space that looked like a meditation spot. Whatever the hell two hunters needed a meditation spot for.

His ringing phone pulled him out of his thoughts. _Please let it be Sammy, let it be Sammy…_ Dean was almost disappointed and a little pissed, too, when he saw Bobby’s name flash on the display.

“What?!”, the hunter barked into the phone, only to be greeted by his surrogate father, who was just as pissed as he was.

“Don’t _what_ me, boy. I’m working my ass off for you, you hear. Which is, by now, almost as numb as my legs.” The older hunter grunted and Dean quickly tried to calm himself.

“Yeah right. What you got?” Dean asked, skipping over the leg-conversation quickly by now. Bobby sighed.

“It’s not good, I tell ya. Adam and I have been searching for something that fits the symptoms of what you’re dealing with, turning people to dust, abducting children, all that strange mumbo jumbo.” He heard turning of pages and then suddenly, his half-brother sounded from not so far away.

“We found a demon that’s named Baal. Bobby says it’s a pretty big deal, some kind of hell knight or something. Really powerful.” He heard Bobby grumble in confirmation.

“Nasty guy, that one. If it is really him, Dean..” he paused and Dean understood that he was switching to his serious tone.

“You better get the hell outta dodge. This is nothing you two can handle alone and spontaneously. This guy turns people to dust just by being in their presence, you should be nowhere around him unprepared if you can help it. Come back to my place and we can work something out.”, he lectured. Dean was silent, then he gave a dry laugh which made Bobby frown.

“What? What is it, Dean? Don’t even think about staying, you’re coming back to my place, better bring that Abigail chick, too.”, he said. Dean shook his head.

“Can’t.”, Dean said flatly and he could practically hear Bobby suck in his breath to tear him a new one over the phone.

“You listen to me, you hot headed, too –full-of-yourself little brat-“

“They’ve got Sammy, Bobby. And Abby, too. I..I just got to the house, it’s empty. Sammy’s blood everywhere. The two were doing research while I was out working the case, asking the vics about what they knew. Sam called, I heard Abigail scream, then the line was dead.” He explained and was impressed by how level he could keep his voice. Bobby was silent, probably in shock. Then he took a deep breath.

“Alright, okay. We…we’re gonna figure this out. First, you have to stay calm.”, the older Hunter explained. After all, this was Dean and it was Sam who was gone. But then again, it was _Dean_ …

“I am calm.” He said in a tone that suggested he was serious and offended to hear otherwise. Okay, now something wasn’t right.

“You just said you found Sammy’s blood on the floor. How do you know it’s his anyway, any name tags on them? Could as well be a demon bleeding out.” At that, Dean massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I am positive. Just…trust me, alright?”

“Then why in the name of whatever is in charge up there these days are you _calm_? I recall you freaking out over much less.” Bobby had lifted an eyebrow, Dean didn’t even need to see him to know he did. There was an undertone in his voice of the things he didn’t say out loud. Of what could have happened to Sammy by now, of what they might do to him, to Abby. What they might do to get him to say yes…

“Yeah, well. And I’ve decided to not let this get to me and concentrate on my ways to find him and kick the ass of whatever dared touch my brother. Or Abby, for that matter. They won’t kill him since they need him so that might buy me a bit of time. And Sammy can turn into a walking talk machine if he needs to buy some. Now’re you gonna help me or you gonna bitch some more about my recent level of calmness?” his voice had pitched up some from the actual impatience in it. He didn’t have time for this conversation when Sammy was at stake, even if he _was_ strangely calm and level headed. It was just…since this Zachariah thing he had this feeling in his gut. It was a constant of calmness and standing in a position slightly above everything, being able to muster movements and see patterns he hadn’t been able to work out before. Now it was giving him the ability to remain rational and think of the things he could do to find Sam and Abby instead of rushing about and shooting at everything that looked remotely supernatural.

“Of course. I’ll get to work. Just stay on the line.” Bobby said and Dean nodded, lying the phone down on the nearest table and putting it on speaker. Then he breathed in deeply to calm himself. So, he really needed to find his little brother. With determination in his green eyes, Dean’s gaze lifted to the research that was already hanging on the wall.

_Okay, let’s kill us some of Luci’s bitches…_

 

* * *

 

Sam awoke to a scream. Which was certainly not a good sign, since he had fallen into darkness hearing the exact same voice screaming out in pain.

Well, shit.

He groaned, the pain hitting him hard. His hand flew to his side and gripped the gaping wound there, instinctively trying to hold the blood in. Of course it didn’t help much. He must have already lost a lot of blood from that gash, as weak as he already felt.

Double shit.

“Abigail..” he whispered, trying to search for her. It was dark in here, too dark for him to see anything. Of course. Demons didn’t need that much light to see. It was probably a tease and fun for them to play with the weakness of a human eye. Naturally, why did he even question that?

Another scream sounded through the room. Sam felt his blood run cold. What the hell were they doing with her?

“Oooh, our prodigy is awake. How’re you feeling, Sammy baby?”, asked a voice from not that far away. Sam felt the wood under his body and struggled to sit up, his hands blood from trying to hold the blood in.

“Don’t call me that.” he insisted. Again, only Dean could call him that (Sammy, not Baby). Nobody else. He felt anger rise in him, that great portion of anger that had fueled him far too much in the last months. Anger directed at the demons, who were obviously torturing Abigail and using a nickname they had no rights to. Suddenly, all that anger that might have given him strength to fight was blown away when he felt something press into his side that wasn’t his own hands. A shoe.

“Ehehee. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I’ll call you however I want, got it?” with a shiver, Sam realized that the voice was female, a heavy female voice full of venom. It might have been sexy if the young hunter didn’t know that it belonged to a bloody demon. God, his side freaking hurt! He had to swallow the urge to cry out in pain, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. His face was distorted in pain anyway and he pressed his teeth together, taking in deep breaths only to be further tormented by the foot being stabbed in even deeper. _Oh GOD! Please just let it stop…_

In a last attempt to get rid of her, Sam lashed out with his arms –which weren’t bound, big mistake on her side- and grabbed her leg, pulling it from under her and making her fall. He pulled out the demon knife from under his jacket, surprised it was still there, and soon found himself on top of her, pressing her to the floor the knife at her throat.

Her face was directly before him and he had been right that she was actually good looking. Demons had a kink for pretty women, it seemed. She had blonde hair and full lips as well as brown eyes. They weren’t glowing black but that wasn’t worrying him since demons only rarely showed their real eyes. But he had her now, she couldn’t get out of this without being stabbed by the demon knife. That was when she suddenly began to laugh. Loud and enthusiastic laughter. As collected as Sam had been before, now his face showed utter confusion. What about this situation was funny to her?

“That thing can’t hurt me.” she laughed under tears. Seeing his face, she just grinned.

“You don’t believe me? Come on, try. What do you think why I didn’t take it from you?” her grin was winning and Sam was getting madder at her within seconds. He lifted the knife and swung it at her neck, clearly cutting her throat. But when he did, nothing happened. The woman was just lying there, lifting her eyebrows at him, when within seconds, the cut closed itself. No trace of it and Sam lashed out again, this time trying the heart.

In the next moment, he felt himself being pressed against a wooden –and rather instable- wall, the wood crushing painfully into his injured side. He couldn’t suppress a half scream of pain. The woman got up, pinning him to the wall with her psychic abilities, grin still on her face and pulled out the knife, unharmed. That was when it dawned on him.

“You’re an angel.” he pressed through his teeth. Of course. Lucifer sure would try to gather some fallen angels while he was at it. The woman tilted her head. It reminded him of Lilith, which only made him want to kill her more.

“Why how awfully kind of you to say that to a woman. But yes, you are correct. I’m one of Lucifer’s most trusted soldiers, actually. I’m in this town for a very important mission.” she clarified, smile still present while she lifted her hand to make him stop struggling against her telepathic hold. Sam’s lips quivered in rage at this point. Stupid bitch, pressing her against a wall like that. He should be helping Abby, warn Dean, whatever, instead of hanging around and being helpless.

“To summon a hell knight.” he spit, his eyes narrowed in disgust. That’s how far Abby and he had come with their research. Actually, they even had a name. But he didn’t need to pronounce it here, that was too risky. Sometimes, names had power.

The angel grinned broadly. “Yes. You did your research well, young hunter. Not any hell knight though. Baal. The commander of Lucifer’s army against god, the upholder of 66 legions of demons. He will spit upon you humans once we’ve got him out. You will stand no chance with him and his troupes present.” she said, her voice was venom but she also had glee in it, obviously believing to having achieved certain victory.

“Yeah, but it’s not that easy, is it? Baal is buried in the deepest pits of hell. You need a very powerful spell to get him out. This town’s just an offering to him. And you still need a vessel that can even hold him in.” he gave a dry laugh. “Can’t take me. I’m chosen, aren’t I?” he spat out, now glee in the hunter’s own voice. Not that he particularly liked being Lucifer’s vessel. This time it did come a bit in handy though. Another laugh disturbed his train of thought.

“No, not you. Our master seemed to have claimed you for himself. Whatever the reason, I don’t see why you’re supposed to be so special. A little demon blood doesn’t qualify you to be the vessel of hell’s mighty king. That girl over there though. She’s got something even you special snowflake don’t have.” she smiled and put her right hand around his neck, pressing and strangling the answer in his throat. Sam would have asked what she meant but his voice was abruptly cut off by the angel’s strong grip around his windpipe.

“You know, I’ll enjoy killing you slowly. I mean. After your brother got taken care of, I’m sure Lucifer won’t mind getting you back again. A little agony to persuade you, mh?” her grin got wider as she saw Sam’s eyes widen. Suddenly, the room seemed cold. No…no. She was lying.

“D-Dean?” he asked, pressing the air through his windpipe even though he was being strangled. “No…no, you’re lying. He’s fine. I was on the phone with him, he was fine…” he breathed, trying to reassure himself. Dean was fine. He could take care of himself. Why was this so shocking to him, this fallen angel just knew how to press his buttons, she knew what to say to get him panicked, to make him desperate, to make him suffer. But her smile didn’t waver and she grinned again, her red lips forming this unforgivable smirk.

“Am I?” she paused and got something out from out of Sam’s view. “Do you recognize this?” she held up a gun, which was strange enough. But then it started to dawn on him. This was Dean’s. It was his ivory gun, the one he usually kept in the back of his jeans and sometimes under his pillow at night. And it was something that he would never just give up or forget somewhere. And to his further horror, it had blood all over it. Sam felt like his heart dropped right out of his chest and got stomped under the angel’s feet.

“No…no you’re lying. God no, you have to be lying.” he whispered, desperation starting to creep in. But this was what she wanted, right? Maybe it wasn’t even Dean’s gun but another one that was similar to it or something. But Dean’s Chromed 1911 with ivory grips…there was something that couldn’t be just bought: Dean’s initials at the side, carved into the handle by his 16 year old self after their Dad gave it to him for his birthday. Dean had led a hunt for the first time and Dad had bought the gun for him afterwards, since he lost his old one to the werewolf they were hunting. They could have stolen that from him but who was he kidding? That was highly unlikely to happen if his brother could help it. This item was one of his most precious possessions, with the memories it held and he would never have a demon take it, he’d rather….well, die.

But he couldn’t be dead now. The angels wouldn’t let him, right? Wait, was he seriously thinking that? They had been murdered by fellow hunters and brought to heaven so they could get Dean to say yes. So yeah, they would probably greet Dean’s death with open arms to make him their little chew toy again. No, no this wasn’t happening, not now. Not again. He couldn’t lose Dean to the angels. They would let Michael jump his bones, they would let Dean fight in the great  battle and without his brother by his side…how was he supposed to resist the nightmares? How long could he hold out on faith in himself alone when he was the one who let out the bastard that was leading this whole mess to begin with? Who was he kidding? The only one who had ever believed in him wasn’t even himself, it was Dean. So without Dean, what was he supposed to do? Dammit, what the hell was he supposed to d-

Quiet laughter interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh well. That was easy. Kill a Winchester and the other one just breaks down. Why hasn’t Lucifer ever thought of that sooner? Oh wait… _he has_.” the angel mused into the quiet, still pressing him against the wall of the cabin with her powers. Yeah, it was quiet….Abby’s screaming had stopped. Which right now, maybe wasn’t a good thing. Maybe she was too weak to scream already. God, he had to get a grip.

The angel’s triumphant grin made his sorrow run cold. The block of ice that rested in his stomach turned to rage and the only thing he wanted to do was rip this little bitch’s head off. Yeah, maybe it did break him. Maybe he wanted to crawl into a corner and never come out of his misery but then again, these bastards had killed his brother. Or at least they said so. And if there was nothing that got a Winchester more broken, there was definitely nothing that got a Winchester more furious.

“You’re gonna pay for this, bitch.” he snarled, his face and voice quivering with rage. She stepped closer, glee in her features, leaning into him and stroking his clenched jaw.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’d like to see you t-“

The fallen angel was interrupted by Sam Winchester’s knee slammed between her legs.

 

* * *

 

Dean Winchester, on the other hand, wasn’t dead at all. His perfectly healthy behind was resting on the floor of Abigail’s and Larry’s house and he was looking at the maps and articles spread out before him. His mind racing, he was putting everything together, until satisfied. Then suddenly, he would jump up and grab his cell phone.

“Got it.” he announced into the speaker and shot a picture with the phone camera. He typed something, staring at the screen and finally clicked ‘send’.

“Mailed it to you.” from the other end, there came a confused voice.

“What? That fast? It’s been 30 minutes. What the hell are you sending me?” Bobby’s voice was gruff. He’d been reading through some articles from the last week, trying to find a clue of where the demons could be hiding Sam and Abby. What the hell was so important that Dean was sending him a picture of it? Impatiently and a bit curious, he opened the mail and his eyes grew wide.

“Dean.” his tone was serious, bordering on spooked as his eyes flew over the slightly blurry camera picture. Adam beside him leaned over and looked at it, eyebrow raised.

“Dean!” he called again when the older Winchester didn’t answer.

“What? I’m packing my things. I know where to go.” he spat. But Bobby shook his head.

“Hold your damn horses. What you send me, is that what Sam and Abby put together this afternoon?” he asked. Dean grunted.

“No, it’s just the useful part of that, about ten percent. The rest is what I put together from what I just found. Why the hell is this important, Sam needs my goddamn help. So maybe you could tell me what you found out about how to kill or get rid of a damn hell knight instead of asking stupid questions.” there was a few seconds of quiet from the other end and Dean tapped his feet nervously. _Damnit Bobby, I don’t have time for this._ He picked up his phone and put it from speaker to normal, holding it to his ear.

“Spit it out already.” he groaned, sensing that something was coming he probably didn’t want to hear.

“Dean. That is research quality that would normally take hours to prepare, maybe a day. And I…well I’m sorry to tell you this but you’ve never been the best at it, either. So…” he hesitated, looking at the picture again. But this was clearly Dean’s handwriting all over it. Scribbled and messy, and lots of it all over newspaper articles in red marker and on notes. Sam’s neat writing was there too, but it was just minor, ten percent, like Dean said. He stroked a hand over his face, scrubbing his beard.

“How the hell did you even manage all this?” the old hunter asked under his breath. God forbid, he believed that Dean was thrilled to get Sam outta there but hell, this was just plain impossible. Not even John could have done this. Something was off with this kid. He just couldn’t put his finger on it…

“Well, I was motivated. Get onto that hell-knight-thing, I’m leaving. Call me.” and with that, Bobby Singer was disconnected from the call.

 

* * *

 

The respective hunter in question stared at the phone in his hand. The youngest Winchester brother was beside him and studied the picture, comparing it to some of the notes.

“This is brilliant.” Adam spat while Bobby still stared, deep in thought.

“He even has the summoning circle down on the map of the city. Look. Exactly the same. Apparently the location of every victim’s infection is exactly on one of those circle lines. Where’d he even find that thing?”

“I have no idea.” The seasoned hunter finally got out. The man in his wheelchair stared at the picture in question. Sure enough, on top of a city plan, in red lines of marker, there was the summoning circle from his book, the one Adam was looking at. There were some kind of straight lines that looked like sketch lines but otherwise it was perfectly round and perfectly detailed and reasonable, little crosses where the victims had dropped. What the hell was happening? This level of knowledge…almost supernatural. Definitely supernatural. But how? What?

No, it couldn’t be….right?

“You never mentioned Dean was a genius. Is that why they want him so bad?” Adam said and sounded impressed. If Bobby hadn’t been that shocked, he would have laughed. Only a small, irritated huff reached his lips.

“That’s because he isn’t. I mean, he’s not dumb and a lot smarter than people give him credit for, sure. I think sometimes he plays the idiot card to lure people into a fake sense of security. But a genius? No, not like this, not this level. Nobody is.” he pointed at the picture. “Nobody I know could have done this that fast. Not Sam, not John and not even Ash. And that symbol.” he pointed at the book. “It’s nothing you just find on the internet. These old, dusty books are probably the only source for it and I’m certain Dean doesn’t have it with him over there.” Adam raised an eyebrow.

“Then how does he know the symbol? Have you told him about it sometime? Has he seen it somewhere?” he asked. Bobby just sighed. He looked over the notes at the side of the map. ‘souls of victims used to strengthen summoning.’ ‘soul dust tinted with a curse, black and bound to earth.’ ‘have to be purified to break summoning’. Who the hell knew such details about souls and summonings? Well there was a guess in Bobby’s mind but if that was right…why hadn’t he heard from Sam about this? The younger hunter would be out of his mind if he knew. Did he?

“Damn straight, kid. I have no goddamn clue.”

While Bobby stared into space, there was silence. A thousand thoughts flew through his head. What could cause this? What had happened? How did Dean know this stuff? And if his guess was right, why did he still seem so…Dean? Finally, his thoughts were interrupted.

“So, we call him and ask again?” Adam asked, he was obviously damn curious about all this. Well good for him, then. Curiosity would keep him from falling asleep during research. But Bobby shook his head.

“No, we should find out about that Baal guy and how to get rid of him first. Read me that passage next to the summoning…”

 

* * *

 

Sam’s vision was blurry. He squinted and tried to get the wooden room back into focus. Why again was he so tired? A sudden cutting pain in his abdomen and practically everywhere on his body reminded him. Painfully.

_Ohh, right. Being beaten to death by an angel. Forgot about that._

If the situation wasn’t that fucked up and hopeless, he would have laughed. Fresh pain spread through him as a kick entered his side. Then another slash from his own knife. A gunshot to his shoulder from Dean’s colt. If he started to count his every injury, he would probably never stop the counting. Not that he would be alive for much longer, anyway.

Weakly, he found the strength to struggle ever so briefly. The hunter swatted her leg away and gripped onto it, pulling it so she lost her balance and fell to the floor.

 _Well, bitch deserves it._ He thought bitterly. If it was true and Dean was dead because of her, what was left to fight for, anyway. What was the point of revenge if there was nothing left to avenge?

_Look where it got you last time, Sam. Started the fucking Apocalypse._

Yeah, killing Lilith hadn’t really turned out as satisfying as he had thought it out to be. But killing some run-of-the-mill angel wouldn’t hurt, right?

Problem was that he just couldn’t. Even rejected from heaven, angels where too fucking strong. Lucifer probably even gave her some sort of new strength, something that replaced their grace and made them swear to their allegiance. He had tried to get hold of her angel blade, but apparently she had stored it away elsewhere, just in case. Why did he have to get the smart angel to be his torturer? Typical Winchester luck for you.

A weak scream echoed through the small house. One that sounded final, and that made Sam’s heart clench. _Abby…god, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t even be here._

Again, he struggled to get up. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes. There was too much blood loss, too much pain. But he had to get up, get to Abby, get her out of here. She didn’t deserve this, none of it.

But just as he made it up a few inches from the floor, something collided with his head heavily, and there was nothing but darkness following…

_Dean…_

* * *

 

 _Take me down to the river bend_  
Take me down to the fighting end   
Wash the poison from off my skin   
Show me how to be whole again   
Fly me up on a silver wing   
Past the black, where the sirens sing   
Warm me up in the novice glow   
and drop me down to the dream below   
  
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass   
Hardly anything left for you to see   
For you to see   
  


_~Castle of Glass, Linkin Park_

 


	7. I'll be gone

**Chapter 7**

_When the lights go out and we open our eyes,_  
_out there in the silence, I'll be gone_  


“The hell I’m waiting for backup!” Dean practically yelled into the phone. Bobby had called again, with a solution to the knight summon (only confirming the soul thing he had already put together himself) but also with the demand for Dean that he should wait until help arrived. He had called some hunters in the area to go and lend him a hand.

“Listen, kid. We’re talking hell knight here. Azazel-level if not worse. You’re not just gonna deal with that by yourself. I mean you obviously had the soul thing figured out, miraculously enough, but that won’t defeat the devil if he’s already out.”

“Yeah, well. He’s not out yet, right? So I just got his little demon minions to deal with. I can handle them and I’ll have Sam for backup as soon as I get him out of there. And Abby. You haven’t met her, she’s got guts.” so he didn’t know that much about Abby yet but Bobby was getting on his nerves big time, so he just decided that Abby was tough.

Which she probably was, considering what she had told them (no real details but she lived with Larry for quite some time now. What, 13 years or something? That was a long time to be in training) and what Sam had told him about working with her.

Plus, she had pointed a gun to his head first time they met, reminding him of Jo somehow. Tough. Hunter’s daughter. Still, he didn’t want to wait any damn second.

“And how’re you going to solve the whole soul problem? It’s not like you have a clue what this solution is even about! Purification? A bit vague, don’t you think? So stop being so damn stubborn and wait for a second.”

“Second? This could be hours. They could be dead by then. Or worse.”

“Now listen to me-“

“No, Bobby, you listen. I’m going in there, period. Talk to you in a few.”

“I swear, if you’re hanging up, I’m kicking your damn-“

“Byeeee.” and he flipped his phone shut with a huff. His hand stroked over his face and he noticed the lack of stubble there. Strange. He hadn’t shaved for three days now, last time was back when he had prepared for being a Michael-condom. There should be a heavy stubble by now but there wasn’t, it was as if he had shaved five minutes ago. Quietly frowning, he added it to the list of strange things happening to him for no apparent reason.

He wasn’t dumb. Of course he knew something wasn’t normal, something was wrong with him. Or too right, for that matter. But until now, no real harm was done by it, so why question it? Or rather, why let anybody else know? Whatever it was, he could handle it himself. No way he would tell Sam about it. Or Bobby. There was a chance he might mention it to Cas. Not because they were close or anything but because he had his suspicions and Cas may be able to…know something about it.  But he shook his head. No, not possible. That was different, it had to be something else.

Dean licked his lips while he got the weapons from the trunk, loading his shotgun with rocksalt and putting an angel blade into his sleeve. Sam had the demon knife with him, so the blade was the next best thing to blow the light of those demon fuckers that kidnapped him. His phone had begun to ring again but he just glared at it and tossed it into the car, not bothering to spare it another thought. Bobby could wait. He was strangely positive that he would be fine.

No, seriously. Normally, there was always this thrill, this fear that something could go wrong, that anything could have happened. But now…why the hell was he so calm? It was so uncharacteristic for him that it was almost spooky. Demons? No problem. Yeah, sure. Since when? Just a few weeks ago he’d been almost killed by a few of them, why would this be any different? Because he had the element of surprise? He chuckled. Yeah, sure. As if they weren’t waiting for him when they took his brother from the house. He was walking right into a trap. So what was it?

But despite himself, he couldn’t pinpoint it and finally gave up as soon as his shotgun was loaded. He shut the trunk with force and flinched a little when the noise was unusually loud. Okay, too much force, then.

“Sorry, Baby.” he mumbled and faced the abandoned hut that was in the middle of the woods around the city. One of the main point of the surrounding summoning circle and conveniently away from people who would be able to hear any screams coming out of the wooden building. The hunter took a deep breath before stepping towards it, weapon in hand.

~.~.~.~

Abby asked herself how the hell she got into this mess. What had happened that she was suddenly tortured by demons about information she’d never even heard about? The demon above her, a guy with dark hair and black eyes –obviously- was rather talkative for a torturer though. He told her things that couldn’t be true. Then again, he seemed convinced to make her do something, prepare her for something. The hell knight? She vaguely remembered her research with Sam and how they had talked about him needing a vessel and prepared offerings. But couldn’t demons just TAKE their vessels? So what the hell was the big deal with the carving?

Again, there was the blade on her body. She didn’t even know what the guy was saying by now, his voice a low hum in the background. But the blade was very much present, dulling her thoughts and making her cry out in pain even though she of course tried not to. She had heard Sam somewhere in the building and she had the desperate need to help him. No, not cry for his help, help him. She wasn’t a pathetic bitch who’d wait for some lame ass knight to safe her.

No, Abigail had struggled against her restraints and had called her captor many dirty names her father would have washed her mouth out for. But she didn’t really care, considering what he was doing to her and that her father was…well, dead. Also, she had tried to challenge what Larry had told her to suppress, trainer her to suppress. But the demon had just laughed and said that the bindings on her were keeping her from using her secret. Now her lips pressed together more in rage than pain.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch.  Whatever you want from me, I don’t have it. Now shove it.” the demon looked up, his knife still with the point in her stomach, obviously tracing a pattern only the little hell fucker understood. He opened his mouth to speak, his face full of glee, when suddenly someone behind him chuckled.

“I like your tone, Abby.” oh dear god, was that Dean? Not that she had heard his voice that much in her life but when his face turned up a few seconds later, she could have outright cried. He was alright! That guy over there had said something about Dean being dead and Sam awaiting the same fate. She had complained in her mind, that these two didn’t deserve that fate. However little she knew them, they just didn’t.

The demon now spun around and growled, downright sounding like a damn dog. Dean just grinned and had his shotgun out so fast, Abby could barely see it. Probably the effect from that many wounds, so she didn’t worry about it. The shot sounded and Dean knew that now he had to be fast, since that shot wasn’t quiet at all and the whole cabin now knew he was there. So he shoved a silver glinting knife in the demon’s gut, making him glow all red from the inside out, burning. Abby frowned. She had never seen a demon die before, if she was honest. Exorcised, yes, but killed? Nope. Not really something that was normal in a hunter’s life. At least as far as she knew. The hunter performing the kill wasn’t even flinching.

A second later, Dean was already moving on, since more demons were flooding the room now, having heard his gunshot. He fired some more rounds of rock salt, hitting a demon in the chest every time –impressive!- and holding them at bay until he could kill them in various creative ways. Since Abby was chained to the damn table, she couldn’t do much anyway and closed her eyes, sighing.

Finally. Her head was spinning from the blood loss and she hoped that none of the wounds on her belly were fatal. Then again, she hadn’t looked down yet…

“God, that looks awful. Here.” a voice beside her suddenly breathed and she looked up to find Dean there, leaning over her. Abby felt her shackles (which had strange binding symbols carved on them) being ripped off with ease –strange enough- and a jacket tightly wrapped around her lower body, seeing as her shirt was practically ripped to shreds.

“Can you stand?” he asked and Abby just nodded.

“I guess. Thanks.” she said, hoping to sum up her gratitude for now, until they were out of here. Never count your chickens before they’re hatched, right? Dumb saying. Anyway. Dean was gone as soon as she had closed her mouth, his lips tight and face lined with worry.

Of course. Sam.

Maybe she knew next to nothing about the Winchesters but one thing she knew for sure: They’d die for each other and not knowing if Sam was okay was probably devastating for Dean. With a cough, Abby slowly made her way off the table, inwardly cursing herself for her slowness but silently gleeful at the sight of all the dead demons scattered on the floor. Come to think of it…

What the hell? These were at least ten! How in hell did Dean-

“Sam? SAMMY!?” the yell interrupted her thoughts and she felt her heart clench in her chest. Dean sounded fucking horrified. Oh no…no no no no that was not happening.

As fast as she could, Abby made her way over to the door, then along the small hallway and into the next one, panting, her breaths heavy from the blood loss and severe pain throbbing at her stomach from the various cuts. She did some breathing exercises to calm her emotions like Larry had taught her. _Always stay calm, keep it at bay, stay calm. You can’t get exposed in front of these two, Abby._ She told herself. They were good people, yeah. But she wasn’t sure yet if she could trust him with _that_. Was never really sure to trust anybody on that topic.

When her head made its way through the door, she gasped. The floor was littered with red liquid all over. It was slowly getting dark, so the low light from the only window made the scene even more ominous. In the ray of sunlight there lay a body, her face frozen in utter shock and a blade through her chest. On the floor next to her, as if painted with charcoal, were wings imprinted, burned into the ground. Abby stared. She had never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Next to the body of that woman was Dean, his back to her and he was holding Sam in his arms, stroking over his damp hair that was caked with blood. Was this pool of blood his? He couldn’t possibly be alive….oh god, no. Dean had to be devastated. Was Sam dead? Because he wasn’t moving…

Trying to be as quiet as she could, Abby made her way around the two of them, sticking to the wall for support, continuing her calm breathing and trying to slow the racing thoughts in her head. When she finally got Sam in her line of view, she froze on the spot, her eyes wide.

Because Sam, despite the blood all over him, was completely unharmed.

 

_~.~.~.~_

_Like shining oil, this night is_  
 _dripping down_  
 _Stars are slipping down, glistening_  
 _And I'm trying not to think what I'm_  
 _leaving now_  
 _No deceiving now, it's time you let_  
 _me know._  
 _Let me know_  
  
_When the lights go out and we open_  
 _our eyes,_  
 _out there in the silence, I'll be gone,_  
 _I'll be gone._

_~ I’ll be gone, Linkin Park_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I'll try to upload these faster. I was proof reading them as I went along but I think i'll just post them in here now so you can read :)


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